Roanapur Shakedown
by fullmoonrisin
Summary: After a routine job goes bad, it becomes clear that someone has Chang in their crosshairs. For some reason, Balalaika, Rock, and Revy are also being targeted. Is not a romance fic but will contain RockxRevy in future chapters.
1. New Job

Alright, first off I'd like to say that while this is not my first venture into fanfiction writing, it is my first crack at a Black Lagoon fanfiction; so go easy please. For any purists that may read this, I'm well aware that anime is more difficult to tamper with than any other category of fanfiction due to the discrepancies between dubs, subs, manga, etc., and the various debates between fans of each one of those. However, I'm going to make it known right off the bat that this follows the dubbed anime story line, so please don't waste your time flaming me about it. Black Lagoon is property of Rei Hiroe, enjoy and review!

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><p>Ch 1: New Job<p>

In the city of Roanapur, Thailand—the city known by some as the city of shit and sin, and by others as the city of the walking dead—there are three basic principles that everyone abides by: Money is king, violence solves _everything_, and crime never rests.

Usually, the local business man of the Lagoon Trading Company was plagued most by the seemingly unanimous belief in unadulterated bloodshed. At the present moment, however, the third principle was the one that irked him greatly. Apparently, someone had been killed outside his window at some point during the night and he was having a hell of a time trying to go back to sleep while Sawyer the Cleaner was at work several feel beneath him.

It wasn't that he feared the woman. In fact, he knew she wouldn't harm him if she was not paid to do it. It was just that the otherwise intimidating buzz of her chainsaw had a talent for chasing away sleep in the early hours of the morning.

Rock rolled once in frustration and then looked at his clock. The digital numbers seemed to mock him as they flashed "6:30" in bold red letters.

Normally, that time of the morning wasn't a problem, but considering that he'd been out late at the Yellow Flag, he was extremely exhausted. He envied his partner for her ability to sleep through anything that didn't pose a threat to her.

With a sigh of defeat, Rock swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up cautiously. He really couldn't recall exactly how much Revy had convinced him to drink so he wasn't sure what kind of a hangover he would have. Surprisingly, he found that his headache was minor as he walked toward the bathroom and began his morning routine.

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><p>The sunlight streamed brightly through the apartment windows, bathing everything in the room in a kind of "white light". The sun also made it apparent that the occupant of the room—who was still in bed—was extremely messy. Empty rum and liquor bottles of various brands and kinds were sporadically littered about the room. Occasionally, there'd be a pile of empty shells on the floor, and there were bullet holes in several places in the walls, as well as in the broken AC unit. It was also obvious that very little dusting occurred in the room. The only items that seemed to be free of dust were the guns.<p>

As the door of the room creaked open, the woman in the bed remained unmoved and unaware. Standing in the threshold for a moment, Rock shook his head slightly in amusement as he took in the state of her room.

"Revy, wake up." He called, knowing he probably wouldn't get much of a response. "We have a job to do." The only reaction he got as he proceeded toward the bed was his partner turning toward him in her sleep and mumbling something unintelligible.

It never ceased to amaze him how different she was in sleep than she was awake.

'Alright,' he thought, 'I guess I'll have to go for the big gun.' He pulled out his carton of cigarettes and retrieved two, lighting both of them and keeping one for himself before speaking again.

"Revy…" He said, in a slightly scared tone akin to a boy attempting to speak after finding out his girlfriend was pregnant. "I think I might've fucked Eda last night."

That did it. Almost as soon as he'd gotten the nun's name out of his mouth, his partner was sitting bolt upright glaring daggers at him and pointing a gun in his face.

"What the fuck did you just…fuck that hurts!" She let out a groan and grabbed her head in both hands, not forgetting to take the cigarette she'd seen in Rock's hand. Meanwhile, Rock stood back and watched her with mild amusement as she stumbled and groaned on her way to the bathroom; throwing the occasional curse into the air along with the smoke from her cigarette.

Revy had a very high tolerance for alcohol, so it was rare that she actually had a bad hangover. When she did, however, the sight was often an amusing one for Rock. She always teased him and hurled various insults ranging from "pussy" to "limp dick" whenever he had one, so it was only fair that he got to turn the tables every once in a while.

Several moments later, Revy exited the bathroom with a lowered head that he guessed was a futile attempt to avoid looking directly at the sunlight. She gave him a glowering look as she got close to him and grumbled under her breath, "Shitty start to a shitty fuckin' day." She then put her holsters on and grabbed Rock by his tie, dragging him behind her out the door. She prayed that whatever this job was, it would involve her getting to shoot something. The pounding in her head was eating away at her already frayed nerves and she knew that her partner was getting far too much enjoyment out of the situation.

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><p>In the Lagoon Company office, two men sat waiting for their colleagues. Benny, the computer tech navigator sat on the couch trying to discretely read a rather lewd letter that he'd received from Jane. The contents of the letter were betrayed to Dutch by the occasional perverse smirk from his employee and a blush that slowly deepened on his face and neck.

Dutch, when he wasn't watching Benny and chuckling quietly, was going over the details of their job. From what he could tell, it appeared to be a straight forward drug order commissioned by the Triad. Usually, jobs for Chang and Balalaika were on the dangerous side, but there were a few exceptions in which there was some excitement, though the job was overall a bit boring.

Just then, the doorway into the office from the living quarters slammed open and Revy stalked in, followed closely by Rock. She went straight to the couch and unceremoniously plopped down next to Benny, and Rock in turn sat next to her. Revy took a quick moment to read over Benny's shoulder and snorted in mild disgust before looking at Dutch and glaring as if to say "Get the fuck on with it."

Dutch reached into his flak jacket and pulled out a cigarette, which he lit before speaking.

"Boss Chang's hired us for a job." He said, to which Revy seemed to perk up a bit from her sour mood. She knew that there was a higher risk of danger when doing work for mob bosses, and that possibility was just what she needed to shake this hangover.

Dutch seemed to know what Revy was thinking as he watched her mood change from brooding anger one second to suppressed glee the next second. He had to disappoint her…although, in the back of his mind, there was still the thought that their jobs often resulted in flying bullets.

"Sorry, Revy." He said, watching her slump back into the couch with a 'hmph' as she continued her brooding with her arms folded across her chest. "This is just a routine drug shipment for Chang from the triad's American counterparts."

"A drug shipment?" Revy snarled "Why the fuck doesn't Chang get his usual errand boys to do that?" She was highly annoyed that Chang would have them do something as mundane as this. It was generally expected of their less important clients.

Dutch tilted his head back and exhaled a smoky breath, "He didn't go into much detail, but apparently, the boss can't trust his usual guys and he's got all of his other resources occupied with other things at the moment. I assume the guys he had making the pick-ups got hooked on the drugs."

Everyone grinned at the idea that anyone would be fool enough to steal from one of the biggest mob bosses in the city. "He made some joke about all the shit bein' there when we deliver it."

"So, where's the meeting place?" Rock wondered, taking a drag from the cigarette he'd lit while Dutch was talking.

"Natuna Besar. It's an island a little over half way between the gulf of Thailand and the coast of Malaysia." Rock had never been with them during one of the rare occasions that they'd done a drug pick up for Chang and Dutch already knew what his next question was. "The boss doesn't like to do his on the main land, or directly through the triad for that matter. It puts some distance between the Roanapur triad and illegal activity should the authorities come knocking…" A devious smile spread across Dutch's face as he finished his thought "like that'll ever happen."

Dutch took one last drag of his cigarette and then crushed it in a nearby ashtray before standing up and walking towards the door with the rest of the group behind him.

"We better get moving," He said, opening the office door "It'll take us until night fall to get there."

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><p>Alright, that's one. Also, I neglected to mention that this takes place shortly after the ending scene of Second Barrage with Eda and Revy in the chapel. Anyway, you've read and hopefully enjoyed, now I hope you'll review!<p> 


	2. Miss Rebecca's Good Fortune

Alright, for anyone who read the first chapter, I give you another installment. I still don't own anything and reviews are much appreciated!

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><p>Ch. 2: Miss Rebecca's Good Fortune<p>

The drive to the dock was uneventful for the most part. There were a few of the usual near misses caused by Benny's lead foot and the poor driving of the average Roanapur driver, which was shitty at its best. These scrapes did nothing for Revy's mood as Benny's evasive maneuvering caused Rock to play a heated game of corners with his hungover partner.

Each time Rock crashed into her, there were obscenities and threats hurled at Benny, which were closely followed by the sounds of Rock crashing back against his side of the backseat. From his seat in the front, Dutch laughed at his employee's display.

This went on for a couple more turns until something very interesting happened. As Benny roughly drifted around a right corner, Rock was again thrown into the unhappy gunslinger. Her reaction was rather unusual and nobody in the car, including Rock himself, had realized what happened until Revy's gloved fist collided with the side of his face and sent him careening back into the window where he slid into the floorboard.

"Keep yer hands off my tits, you asswipe!" Revy shouted, although the effect would've been ruined if anyone would've looked to see that she was blushing furiously. In truth, as soon as his hand had made contact, memories of every conversation she'd had about him with Eda flashed through her head in that second it took for her fist to contact his face. When she thought about it, she may have only punched him as a knee-jerk reaction. After all, she was an attractive woman, and in their city of low lifes, it wasn't uncommon for someone to try and cop a feel. Actually, she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't like it. At the moment, though, she wasn't sure she wanted to be honest.

She let out a low, almost inaudible, growl with that last thought. Damn that Eda, she thought. The fake nun had hounded her so many times about her relationship with Rock that she could actually hear the skank taunting her like some sort of "angel" on her shoulder. Just when the fuck did Eda become her moral compass?

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><p>Once they reached the dock everyone stepped out of the car and began to go about their own various rituals for the job. Dutch, as usual, went to the helm of the boat; Benny headed for his computers to bring up the coordinates of the island, and Rock followed Revy since he had taken to helping her clean her weapons shortly after the return from Japan.<p>

Rock was perplexed as he followed Revy onto the boat. Ever since she'd punched him in the car, she seemed to be deep in thought about something. She seemed to be brooding over something…like she was having an inner struggle with herself, yet she seemed less irritable than she had been that morning. She was so deep in thought that she was oblivious to her surroundings on the boat; or so it seemed to Rock. He didn't even think that she'd noticed him following her. He had a feeling about what was bothering her, but he knew well not to say anything until Revy was damn good and ready.

Revy finally stopped once they reached the ammo storage room that they used as a place to clean any guns they might be using on the mission. She made no move to enter the room, yet she still didn't acknowledge Rock. He grew more concerned by the minute that he had actually broken her some how.

Meanwhile, the internal struggle continued inside Revy's mind. The part of her that had been buried underneath years of shit, gutter filth, murder, rape, and thievery was struggling with all of her pent up cynicism. That part of her knew that the Lagoon Company really was her family, that Rock truly was her best friend and would not hurt her or use her. That part of her had known that she loved him on some level for a while now. However, the cynical part of her mind contended that she was an idiot to think that love was more than just an illusion. Rock would just leave her or hurt her like everyone else in this God forsaken world of shit and sin.

It didn't help Revy that she had a partial view of Rock's face in the midst of her mental struggle. While she stood there, brooding and thinking, she could see his face begin to morph into a look of concern. The dead side of her was pissed by that display, while the side of her that was still human was comforted to see him supporting her cause.

Revy shook her head in frustration and glared at Rock, "Take a fuckin' picture, Rock, it'll last longer, and stop fucking giving me that damn look."

Her complaint had the desired effect as the concerned look left Rock's eyes and was replaced by a relieved smile. That was the Revy he knew.

"Sorry, Revy."

Revy huffed lightly and let Rock lead the way through the door. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Without another word, Revy removed both cutlasses from her holsters and tossed one into Rock's waiting hands with a grumpy huff. She didn't really want to be this close to him right now, yet for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to send him away. Most likely, because he didn't actually do anything and she knew it would hurt his feelings since he seemed to enjoy the extra time with her with the added bonus that he got to handle her weapons as well.

As Rock carefully dismantled the cutlass she had thrown him, he spared Revy the occasional glance out of the corner of his eye. It seemed that she had gone back to the conflicted state she had been in before they entered the room; although now, she seemed to be focused. Rock's curiosity was gradually beginning to take hold as he sat wiping down the barrel of the cutlass that had probably been pointed in his face if not actually fired at him. He could never remember which of the two that she actually had fired at him.

With a slight smirk, he continued to clean the weapon. He still found it ironic that he had gone from being on the business end of her guns actually having her trust him enough to allow him to clean her guns. She didn't let anyone but old man Praiyachat touch her guns before him.

His thoughts were interrupted when Revy let out a light-hearted snort in contrast to her apparent pensive mood and spoke to him, "Just what the fuck are you thinkin' about, Rock?" She said as she re-assembled a cutlass and flipped it into the left holster. "Remember what I said when you first joined us? You're too fuckin' young for that reminiscing bullshit."

She took the other cutlass from him and loaded it before flipping it into the right holster while Rock responded, "I know, and I usually don't, but…" He paused to thing about his next words and to light a cigarette. "Can you really tell me you never think about how far we've come?" the tone in his voice was light and held a touch of humor and irony in it. Very few people in Roanapur expected Rock to survive working with Revy as long as he had, let alone become her partner. Yet, something about their dynamic worked. He liked to think that he lasted this long because he had somehow stirred something human within the gunslinger that wouldn't allow her to harm him when he first joined. Now, he hoped, that the reason she wouldn't harm him was because she actually felt something for him as a friend. 'Maybe even more,' the back of his mind chimed into his thoughts.

Revy's immediate response to the question was a casual shrug of her shoulders in concession. After all, she thought, he did have a point. She did reflect quite a bit on her life around the time that she had first met him. In the time that he'd been employed by the company, she realized that he had rubbed off quite a bit on her.

When he first joined, she was absolutely rabid, to the point that she would've gone on a shooting spree in the city until she killed someone she shouldn't have and the Visotoniki put her out of her misery. When Rock came along, she began to calm down, although the kill switch was still present inside of her. She realized that, while she was by no means tame, she was still pretty tame compared to the rabid animal she'd been when Rock entered her life.

"Whaddaya say we go topside? I gotta get some air to clear my head before this shit starts." Revy said, pulling Rock up and walking out the door, her boots clanking on the metal floor as she went.

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><p>Sometime shortly after nightfall, an island began to come into view through the front windows of the Lagoon's bridge.<p>

"You see anything yet, Benny boy?" Dutch asked as he slowed the throttle and scanned the shoreline for any signs of one of the small vessels that he knew Chang usually received his drugs from.

"I have a ship on radar to the north-east, Dutch." Benny confirmed, but then spoke again "Wait a minute. I'm picking up a second vessel."

"What? Two vessels? Can you tell which one's ours?" Dutch continued to scan the area in front of him after he'd made alterations to his course. He reached down and grabbed a beer out of the cooler before opening it and taking a swig.

"It appears to be the vessel to the north-east. The other vessel looks like its dead in the water. Its not moving and I'm not getting any response from 'em."

"Hmm." Dutch hummed pensively. It wasn't unusual in this part of the sea for a ship to be crippled, but for some reason his instincts were telling him that something wasn't right. He looked out the front windows and finally spotted the other boat waiting for them.

"Alright, Revy, Rock, ya'll are up."

The pair each gave their own acknowledgements into their headsets before walking across the deck to wait until the other boat was close enough for them to climb the short ladder.

Once they were on deck, Rock immediately noticed something. The man that appeared to be the one in charge of their shipment was most definitely Japanese, and he looked familiar. Rock shook it off and just figured he'd seen the man during his former life in Japan, but he still leaned over and whispered to Revy.

"I thought this was a Chinese gang."

Revy just chuckled lightly and answered, "It isn't unusual for the triad to have people of any Asian background on their payroll." It was her way of getting him to shut up and drop the matter, but, she too, sensed something familiar about the man, though she couldn't place it.

Rock nodded and addressed the Japanese man in front of him.

"I believe you have something for us, Mr…?"

The man just smirked and shook his head, and with a clap of his hands, his associates brought forth several cases of drugs.

"Our names are not important. After all, we are nothing more than delivery men, yes?"

Usually, even the most sleazy of clients would give their name, or at least give a fake name when Rock asked. It was clear to Revy that he didn't want his name known, which in the best case scenario meant he was trying to screw Chang over.

"No. Give us the fuckin' name. Now." Revy spoke in a low and dangerous tone, putting a hand on her cutlass.

Several of the triad members responded by drawing their guns on her and the Japanese man put his hand up to tell them to lower their weapons.

"Very well, I am Shinji Hakubi." He smiled in an attempt at friendliness, though Revy ignored it and was about to speak when Rock picked up on what she was about to say.

"Mr. Hakubi, I mean no offense to you or the triad. However, we need to make sure that the product is as Mr. Chang ordered it. Could you show us the cargo?"

Shinji grinned a smile that caused Revy to grab Rock in preparation to throw him to safety if need be as he lifted his hand. At the first sight of the detonation device, Revy's eyes widened and she ran towards the Black Lagoon, pulling Rock with her.

"Shit! Double-crossing bastards!" She yelled as they landed on the deck and Revy began to exchange fire with several of the men.

"Revy, what's goin' on up there?" Dutch asked worriedly as he watched Revy firing from his view on the bridge.

Revy emptied a clip and replaced it, muttering curses all the while.

"There are no fuckin' drugs, Dutch. Just a fuckin' buncha limp-dick traitors." She growled as she saw a bullet nearly graze the side of Rock's head before he flinched and tucked his body down even lower.

"They have explosives Dutch, let's get out of here before they decide to use them!" Rock shouted in panic as the bullets continued to fly over his head.

"Fuck me." Dutch groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Alright, get inside, you two. Benny, can you find that dead boat? I think it's worth checking into."

"Sure thing, Dutch."

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><p>Okay, that's two. I know It's not much story development, but I like to develop my stories over several chapters. Anyway, I hope you liked it, please R&amp;R!<p> 


	3. Chang Under Fire

Alright, finally the plot will thicken in this chapter as far as the main plot goes! Anyway, if you've kept up this far, I hope you like it. I own nothing, please R&R!

**P.S.- There will be translation sequences in this chapter. I would like to apologize beforehand for the lack of detail put into them. I don't actually know Chinese and I don't have any way of translating English to the actual Chinese word rather than the written characters.**

Ch. 3: Chang Under Fire

"Well, that was a fuckin' bust." Revy deadpanned lightly once she and Rock were standing on the Lagoon's bridge.

Revy was angry about the apparent double-cross of the triad on the boat, but this was one of those rare cases where her anger was over shadowed by her joy at getting to shoot someone or something. Rock noticed that she was in a much better mood now than she had been all day and guessed that the brief gunfight had indeed done wonders for her hangover.

"So, whaddaya think, Dutch? Set-up?" The ever cynical gunslinger asked while her mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion for them.

Dutch knew what was on his employee's mind, and, while he wouldn't completely discount it in a place like Roanapur, he still found it quite unlikely in this situation. However, there was the matter of the dead boat that bothered him, although it could just turn out to be nothing. He pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and lit a cigarette.

"Oh, I think it's a set-up, alright. But, I think its Chang that's being set-up. We're just the poor bastards that got ourselves stuck in the middle of this clusterfuck."

It was Rock's turn to add his two cents to the conversation at hand, "If that's the case, then wouldn't it be in our best interest to warn Chang?"

While Rock had come quite a long way in understanding how things worked in Roanapur, the fact that he could often get worried about his own well-being made him blind to certain details. He was confused when the only response he got from his boss was for Dutch to throw back his head and laugh.

"What?" Rock asked, looking from Dutch to his partner as she opened a beer that she'd retrieved from the cooler.

Revy snorted in response. "Dumbass," She teased, resting an elbow on Rock's shoulder, "The triad has intelligence on almost every damn continent on this fuckin' rock." Revy paused to take a swig of her beer and finished her statement, "If someone wipes their ass within a fuckin' mile of a head of the triad; Chang will know. And, if someone is fuckin' stupid enough to try and set Chang up or assassinate him, they'll regret all the fuckin' time their mama spent drinkin' and smokin' while she was pregnant to make 'em so fuckin' stupid."

Rock laughed uncomfortably at Revy's colorful metaphor and nodded in understanding. "Got it. Chang probably already knows, but I just have one more question. If he knows, then why wouldn't he tell us about the situation?"

Again Revy snorted before passing Rock the beer can and answering while he took a swig. "Because, if he makes it seem like he's in the dark, then he can flush whoevers after him into the open and kill 'em."

"I suppose you're right," Rock conceded, passing the beer back to Revy again, "Still, I don't like this. That man on the boat was too familiar for my liking."

"You noticed it, too, huh partner?" Revy spoke absently as she toyed with the half empty beer can. It couldn't have been a good thing if they both thought that the man looked familiar. She just shook the thought off and decided to chase it away with some alcohol as she chugged the remains of the Heineken.

"Any sign of the boat yet, Dutchy?" Revy asked, apparently loudly enough for Benny to hear.

"We should be comin' up on it in a couple minutes at our current speed." Came the muffled response from the navigation room several feet behind the bridge.

As promised, they came up on the dead boat shortly after Revy had asked the question. It was a small vessel, although it was slightly larger than the Black Lagoon; just like the other boat. Upon closer inspection, it had Chinese characters painted on its hull. That was something that the other boat had been missing. They noticed that the boat was eerily quiet, no doubt because the boat was dead, but there was also another silence. It was a silence that only lingered when death was in the air.

"Hear that, partner?" Revy asked Rock as they stood once again on deck; ready to cross over to the other boat.

Rock merely shook his head and shivered as an unusual cold gust of wind blew past him. He did hear it, he felt it too; he just didn't want to acknowledge the disturbing atmosphere any more than he had to.

They stood there in silence for a few short minutes before Dutch joined them on deck.

"I'm goin' with, this time. I'd like to find out for myself just what the fuck we've found ourselves in the middle of here." He said as he and Revy continued to move forward while Rock remained glued to the spot.

Revy turned around when she noticed that Rock wasn't following and smiled slightly before tugging roughly by his tie for the second time that day.

"Come on, dipshit! You don't expect me to leave my partner behind, do ya?"

Rock returned the smile with a somewhat forced one of his own and willed his feet to move across the PT boat's deck towards the short ladder of the Chinese boat.

Dutch was the first one up, and he motioned for Rock to stay back until Revy head cleared the deck so that they could make sure that everything was safe. After a brief wait, the boss gave Rock the cue to continue onto the deck and he braced himself for whatever horrible sight might be waiting for him when he made it onto the deck.

To Rock's surprise, the only overt sign of anything amiss from their perspective was the presence of a few minor blood spatters here and there, along with several empty shell casings lying on the deck.

Revy took a step forward and knelt in front of a spot with several spent casings laying around. Being the experienced gunman that she was, it was easy for her to pinpoint exactly where the target had been based on the position of the casings alone. She looked out in front of her and noticed a significant, but not fatal, amount of blood trailing back into the hallway from underneath a short staircase. If the shooters hadn't gone to finish their prey off, then there was a possibility that whoever left that blood trail was still alive.

She put that bit of information aside for a moment and picked up one of the spent shells, examining it closely. Revy knew that it was the same caliber that would've been used in those uzis that the men on the other boat were using; that fact ensured an almost one hundred percent possibility that the people who had attacked this boat were the same as the people that they had attempted to do the trade with.

"See somethin' you like, Two-hands?" Dutch asked as he watched her scan the boat and analyze the empty shells with curiosity. He hadn't actually seen the guns on the other boat, but he could guess by her interest in the shells at her feet that they must've come from the same gun.

"Not really." She answered simply, turning her attention to the blood trail and getting back to her feet.

"Hey Rock," Her voice snapped him from his own grim assessment of their surroundings and he quickly turned his attention to her. "Follow me."

Rock paled a little when he noticed that her gaze was pointing toward a blood trail as she spoke. He really didn't know why this boat was affecting him so much. He'd been in Roanapur long enough that he ought to be used to seeing dead bodies. He was partners with the woman responsible for a large chunk of the death rate in the city—if not the vast majority of it—and, he fell asleep to the sound of murder on a nightly basis. So, why then was the atmosphere on this ship bothering him so much? Maybe it was just that the dead on the boat had been gone just long enough to be cold, but not long enough for their souls to leave. Maybe, it was the fact that he was reminded of the U-boat incident, and if he was, then Revy must be too.

Rock shook his head to clear his thoughts as he followed Revy closer and closer to the dimly lit hallway.

'Or, maybe I just need to stop thinking.' He thought as they approached the first door in the hall; the room that the blood trail continued into.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from one of the rooms on the starboard side of the corridor. In an instant, Rock had jumped so that he was behind Revy, and Revy had drawn both cutlasses.

After several moments of waiting, Rock wondered "What the hell was that?" to which Revy simply shrugged and replied, "Beats the shit outta me."

Then, just as Revy made a move to holster her guns, there was scraping noise, followed by angered shouts in a language that Rock recognized as Mandarin. A thin, middle-aged, Chinese man in a ruffled business suit came charging out of the room that they'd heard the noise in brandishing some kind of metal rod over his head.

The man stopped when he was met with one of Revy's cutlasses literally being pressed into his face. Luckily, she had sense enough not to fire since he was likely able to provide them with more information.

"Back off, old man. We ain't here to waste our bullets on low level delivery pisants."

Despite Revy's "reassurance", the man didn't move an inch other than to lower the metal rod he held, and he appeared to be confused.

Rock couldn't resist teasing his partner, "You know you're actually making a convincing argument to the contrary, right."

"Hey, Rock," Revy began calmly as she redirected the cutlass to his face instead and questioned, "you wanna find out what a bullet tastes like?"

In spite of the cool demeanor that she had displayed this whole time, the debate between human and walking dead was still raging inside of her. As a result, her patience was on a shorter leash than usual and Rock had just pushed his luck a tad too far.

"No," Rock sighed, "I think I'll pass." Her eyes widened when he grabbed the stainless steel barrel of her cutlass and pushed it away from his face. A lot of people may have feared the sight of Revy's unholstered guns, but Rock found it rather boring, actually. He had come to the conclusion months ago that there was no real threat behind the action of her pulling her guns on him. It just didn't make sense that she would go out of her way to keep him alive so many times if she actually intended to kill him.

"Fuckin' dipshit." Revy scoffed, holstering her weapon as Rock proceeded to interrogate the perplexed and frightened Chinese man standing before them while Dutch entered the cabin where the blood trail ended.

Meanwhile, Revy just watched on as Rock appeared to argue with the man in front of them. The man would occasionally transition between anger, fear, and looks of skepticism that Revy could only guess indicated changes in the direction of the interrogation. At any rate, she lacked patience enough to give a shit. As the gunwoman stood against the wall in her brooding pose with arms crossed over her chest, she began to tap her fingers impatiently against her forearms. This went on for several minutes until Revy could no longer stand being left in the dark.

"Yo, Rock, what the fuck is this guy saying?" She barked, causing the man to flinch at her harsh tone and Rock to hang his head and let out an irritated sigh.

"Will you please try and restrain yourself?" Rock requested, realizing immediately that what he was asking was absolutely absurd, especially given his partner's less-than-ideal mood.

"He's shaken enough as it is, Revy." Rock lapsed into mandarin briefly before addressing Revy's question.

"He's confirmed that the other men are not affiliated with the triad, at least not to his knowledge. He said that they were approached by those other guys who claimed to be here to pick up the triad's drugs. They knew from Chang that they were to make the drop with a PT boat, so they knew it was a lie." Rock paused and removed his cigarette packet, extracting three and offering the other two to Revy and the triad member, respectively.

In the time he had paused, Revy picked up on where he was going and continued. "So, the assholes crippled the ship, killed a few guys for good measure, and took the drugs?"

"Actually," The Black Lagoon captain's voice sounded from the doorway next to Revy, "The drugs are still here."

Dutch pushed his sunglasses up onto the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to assess the sole survivor of the attack.

"Rock, tell the man to get on our boat. We're taking him back to Roanapur with us." Dutch turned his attention to Revy and addressed her next, watching her crush the life out of her cigarette underneath her jungle comabat boots.

"You can both help me with the drugs. We'd still get paid for our trouble if we showed up without 'em, but since they're here, I'd hate to leave a job half done."

With that statement, Revy and Dutch entered the room that held the drugs while Rock escorted their survivor to the PT boat.

Once inside the room, Revy saw where most of the small crew had died. The blood trail that ended just outside the door continued a short distance from the room's threshold. It's end point was at the body of an oriental man who lay in a sprawled out supine position about ten feet from the door. He appeared to have suffered from the position of his body and the expression on his face. Blood poured out of his mouth in copious amounts via an entry wound in the soft pallet of his mouth. The gun that he'd used to take his life still rested in the palm of his limp left hand.

Revy just looked at the poor bastard with a grimace of disgust. She wasn't at all disgusted at the sight; she was disgusted by his actions. He took the coward's way out because he was too afraid to die a painful death.

'Well, at least those bastards did something right.' Revy mused to herself as she picked up two cases of drugs. In her mind, it was a good thing that Chang was now short one spineless pussy.

Just as Rock, Revy, and Dutch had picked up all of the cases and started their walk back to the boat, Benny's voice came in over the headsets.

"You might wanna walk a little faster there, Dutch. It looks like our friends are coming back."

Dutch, ever the calm one, gave little outward reaction, but on the inside he was cursing their luck.

"You sure about that, Benny boy?" He asked as all three of them began to run towards the boat to make sure that they didn't get caught in a bad position if this truly was their enemy or a patrol ship.

"I'm pretty sure, Dutch." Benny affirmed "They're headed straight for us at a pretty good speed."

The trio landed awkwardly on their feet from the jump off the deck and promptly hurried for the cargo hold. Neither Dutch nor Rock had to look at Revy to know that she was excited at the prospect of another gun fight with their "friends". She was practically radiating with sadistic glee as her feet beat a quick pattern against the metal floor. She really needed an outlet for all the frustration and inner conflict that Rock seemed to be causing her today, and since she couldn't go starting a fight with him today then she might as well put some insignificant fucks out of their misery.

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><p>Alright, that's three. I know you probably expected more violence from Revy given her conflicted state of mind, and I promise it is coming next chapter. However, I also believe that she's come a long way since the U-boat incident and the fight in the market with Rock and I don't think that a fight between the two would be as violent as the one in the market. I don't think she'd point a gun at Rock with the intention of actually killing him anymore either. I promise, the conflict will come to a head and they will confront each other. I'm just working out how its going to happen and when. They've got a ways to go.<p> 


	4. Revy's Playground

Okay, here's Chapter four. For anyone who's kept up thus far, I'd like to apologize for the abrupt ending of the previous chapter. It's just that I had a lot planned for this part of the story and I felt it would've been too much (for me at least) to cram into one chapter. In short, I needed to end the previous chapter somewhere and that was the best place that I felt I could've ended it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one; it'll finally earn the M rating! Please R&R!

Ch. 4: Revy's Playground

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><p>The cargo hold quickly became a mess of organized chaos as the crew scrambled to get the drugs safely on the boat and secure before their "guests" arrived. There were curses and apologies mumbled as Rock and Revy collided with each other and Dutch hurried to get out of the room and back to the bridge. The two partners were especially frustrated because they seemed to mirror each other at every turn. This resulted in several painful collisions and a few lesser brushes of the skin. It was these brushes that flustered the two of them most and caused tingling feelings to reverberate through each of their bodies from the point of contact. Needless to say, these feelings did nothing but worsen Revy's conflicted state of mind, which caused her brewing frustration to boil over.<p>

After yet another collision, Revy forcefully grabbed Rock by his collar and hissed, "Enough!" before tossing him aside just as forcefully and leaving him to finish strapping down the cargo in preparation for what was sure to be a wild ride.

"Hurry it up back there, Two-Hands. If this game of chicken goes on any longer I'll be able to see who's at the helm of that boat."

Dutch fired a torpedo in an attempt to stave off their advance while Revy half-heartedly brushed off his complaint in her rush to get above deck. She was well armed for the task ahead of her, having made a quick stop to their storage room to grab both the rocket launcher and the sniper rifle to aid her cutlasses in the task of taking these imposters out.

"Relax, bossman." Revy spoke once she had found a good vantage point to the front of the PT boat that also provided her with good cover.

"These fuckers are all mine now."

She fired a shot from the sniper rifle, reloaded, and then fired a second time watching as two of the men went down in a shower of brain matter, bone fragment, and blood. The triumphant smile that crept across her face accentuated the predatory gaze that adorned her eyes; creating a look that had caused many a person to quiver in fear…only a handful of which were still living to tell about it.

She continued to toy with the men as they fired futile shots while the two boats continued to waltz around each other in the tropical waters. She was a lioness, just biding her time before the final kill.

"Duck..." The boats were drifting closer to each other in the water with each pass. "Duck…" The sniper rifle was leveled in preparation for the next shot, and as the boats passed particularly close together, the trigger was pulled. "Goose."

Almost every one of the ten men left on the boat ducked the instant that she leveled the rifle, but a sickening thump told them that the bullet had found it's mark. In the middle of the deck, there was a man with a rather messy tracheotomy who had been unfortunate enough to be exposed by the angle of the pass. His face bore a horrified expression; as if he had known the bullet had his name on it. His eyes were rolled back into his head and blood and torn muscle laid around his neck.

"Hmm." Revy smirked as she watched them scramble for the bombs; she guessed that if they were going out, then they were taking the Lagoon Company out with them.

"Wait a minute." She did a quick head count. There should've been nine left after her last kill, but she only counted seven. "Where did they get off to?" She briefly wondered before she spoke to Dutch through the earpiece. "You might wanna get us the hell outta dodge. They're gettin' ready to make shark food of themselves."

"Got it." Dutch moved the throttle up, but to his surprise, the boat sputtered and died on the spot.

"What the fuck?" Dutch and Revy spoke at the same time, while Revy looked toward the boat with widened eyes. She couldn't blow their boat up with the rocket launcher from this distance without killing herself, Dutch, Benny, and Rock as well.

She pulled her cutlasses and hoped she could hit them all before they blew the bombs. With a cock of the hammers and pulls of both triggers, the bullets went flying. In moments, the deck of the large cruise boat was painted red. The last man slid down one of the bombs and left a bloody streak down the front of it just before he could activate it and Revy let out a sigh of relief.

"What the fuck happened, Dutch?" Revy asked, holstering her cutlasses and picking up the launcher and sniper rifle as she headed back to the bridge.

"I don't know." Dutch rubbed his temples and then retrieved a cigarette. He lit it and took a deep breathe. "Benny and I just installed new parts before this job and she worked great on the test run. It's almost like someone tampered with it…but how." He rubbed his goatee thoughtfully while considering how it could be that the engine wasn't working.

Revy stopped just outside the hatch into the bridge and looked over in the direction of the engine room. A devilish smirk spread across her face as the mystery of what happened to those two men from the boat was solved. The hatch into the engine room was standing wide open.

"Maybe someone did tamper with the engine, Dutch." She said with a knowing tone in her voice, her left hand gripping her right cutlass. "I'm gonna go greet our little stowaways."

Again, Revy removed both cutlasses from their holsters and began to walk the short distance toward the engine room.

When she reached the open hatch, she cautiously poked her head in, only to come face-to-face with one of the two men and have a bullet whiz by her head as she jerked it out of the hatch.

"Well, well…" Revy smirked as she spoke in a taunting tone, "I thought you chinks were supposed to be smart." She racked the slides on both cutlasses, fully aware that the two men would be able to hear the menacing sound that signaled what was about to happen; even if they couldn't understand English.

"You two fuckers shoulda stayed on your own damn boat, 'cuz you're in Revy's fuckin' playground now!" Her growl was accented by a discharge of several rounds into the side wall of the engine room. The silence that followed her shots betrayed the fact that the Chinese men were scrambling for cover. Revy chuckled devilishly at their predictable behavior before she quickly leapt through the hatch and began their game of cat and mouse.

The engine room was filled with a haze of black smoke caused by the damage that their unwanted passengers had done. This gave Revy an even bigger advantage since she knew the engine room well enough that she didn't need to see it to navigate her way through it. For the moment, though, she merely stood silently, just waiting for some sound to give away her enemies' position. She could practically feel their fear and adrenaline radiating through the room along with the smoke and it thrilled her to the bone.

After several tense moments, one of the men finally lost his cool and began to fire rapidly at her. He barely nicked her with his first shot and she skillfully dodged the rest by alternating her quick reflexes and talent for acrobatics with the use of cover. After a few moments, she heard the tell-tale sound of his gun reloading and she pounced, landing right in front of him. He only had a couple moments to be stunned before she put a bullet directly between his eyes and the sound of blood spattering against metal was heard.

"You hear that, Chinky?" She asked with a gleeful tone, "One down, and only one to go." She re-racked the slide of her right cutlass and took a brief moment to light a cigarette. She exhaled a cloud of tobacco, nicotine, and carcinogens as she spoke again in an ominous tone.

"You can't hide from me forever."

To prove her point, Revy fired off what appeared to be a random shot, but the man that was left fought back a scream of pain as the bullet pierced his right hand. Fortunately, the sound of his gun hitting the floor was hidden by the hiss of steam coming from the engine directly behind him. His eyes still widened with fear. Did she really know? Or was it just a lucky shot?

His answer came when the gunslinger let out a genuine yawn somewhere to his left.

"Well, would ya look at that. I think it's almost bed time for me. That sucks for you, Chinky."

The fear reached a peak inside the man and he scrambled to pick up the gun with his good hand. He was unnerved at how close her voice had sounded, and at the foreshadowing of his fate. He absolutely would not go down this way!

Just like the other man before him, he fired a series of shots, and just like before: Revy dodged each of them with unparalleled skill before coming to stand directly in front of the frightened man. He looked into her eyes for a brief moment and shook with fear at the predatory gleam in her half-dead eyes.

"It's been fun, Chinky." Revy said, leveling her gun to aim it at his forehead. It was quickly becoming clear to him that he would not be one of the few to live after being on the receiving end of the look in this woman's eye. In fact, that predatory look, accompanied by her sadistic smile, was the last thing he ever saw.

A loud crack rung through the engine room and another spattering noise was heard as the man's lifeless body slumped to the floor.

Revy lifted up her cutlass and blew the smoke off of the end of the barrel before she returned it to its home in the empty left holster. She paused momentarily to inhale on her cigarette as she gazed at her handiwork.

After a few moments, she silently turned on her heel and exited the engine room as quickly as she'd come.

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><p>Several hours, swear words, and spare engine parts later, the Black Lagoon finally pulled into its spot at the docks. It was early morning in the city and faint traces of sunlight had begun to slice through the blackness of the night sky. Rock busied himself with their acquired passenger while the rest of the crew went about untying the cases of drugs from the cargo hold.<p>

Despite the fact that he'd been on their boat and out of harm's way for hours now, Su Jun, as Rock had learned was his name, was still somewhat shaken and hesitant to trust any of their crew. It didn't help him that Revy had made a game on the trip back out of bursting into his cabin at random intervals and pointing her gun at him. When Rock had finally confronted her about it, she just scoffed dismissively and said she was "just playing"; asking Rock where his sense of fun was.

After everything—and everyone—had been gathered, the group came to stand by the GTO as Benny began to load the drugs into the trunk. In spite of their ordeal, none of them was any worse for wear than when they left.

"So, where are we going now?" Rock questioned, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Revy on his right as he handed a third one to Mr. Su on his left. "It's a little early to call on Chang, isn't it?"

Dutch just smirked wryly, responding "It's a minor inconvenience compared to the twenty four hours that I've been away from my bed on account of him." He lit his own smoke as Revy voiced her agreement beside him.

"Anyway, we can decide in the car. It's not smart to hang around for too long with our cargo still in the trunk."

The drive to the Triad headquarters was uneventful. At this time of the morning, there wasn't much traffic. It was 5:30, and most of the people awake this early had some sort of affiliation with one of the numerous mobs and cartels throughout the city. Apparently, most of the population shared Revy's sleep-in attitude.

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><p>Once they reached the Triad offices, they were surprised to find Chief Watsap standing at a roadblock in the middle of the road. Dutch rolled down the window on his side as the Chief approached.<p>

"Well, well. If it isn't Lagoon Company." The Chief greeted them jovially, leaning his fore arms down on the door frame.

"I see you're gettin' to work on that golf game." Dutch joked with a smile, only to become serious an instant later, "What happened here?"

"Road's closed." Chief Watsap stated simply, lighting a cigarette. "Some idiot blew up a car bomb yesterday outside the Triad's offices. There's debris to clean up; same thing at Bougainvillea."

Revy was the first to find her voice in light of the news.

"Holy shit!" She exclaimed from where she sat in the back seat, "Someone tried to kill Chang _and _Balalaika? This city's about to be ripped apart at the seams."

No matter how tough Revy acted, there were still things and people in this world that she feared; Balalaika was one of them. Balalaika on the warpath was another, and the city was sure to be crawling with Visotoniki by the end of the day. Just thinking about that gave Revy the chills.

"No shit." Watsap agreed as Dutch bid farewell to him and they made their way to the back of the building.

"Damn." Dutch stomped on his cigarette and closed the car door as everyone made their way to the trunk, "Roanapur's about to reach the boiling point and we're in the middle of the pot."

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><p>And the plot begins to thicken! I hope you enjoyed chapter four. Next Chapter: the introduction of Chang, Balalaika and Boris. Please R&amp;R!<p> 


	5. Roanapur's Clusterfuck Day

Okay, here's chapter five. Some background on our main villain will be provided. I greatly apologize for the delay. I have been very busy lately and I'm sure you can all relate. Anyway, I still own nothing; please R&R!

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><p>Ch. 5: Roanapur's Clusterfuck Day<p>

After a few minutes of trekking up the stairwell of Chang's tower, the Lagoon Company finally reached their floor. Since each member was holding three cases of the drugs, it was left up to Mr. Su to open the door that would lead them into the main hallway. Mr. Su jumped back in fright when the door opened straight into a raised gun with a Chinese dragon on the handle.

"Ah, it's just the Lagoon Company." Chang teased, lowering his weapon and pushing his trademark aviators up his nose with a smirk, "And here I thought there might be a threat lingering in the building."

There was a growl as Revy pushed her way past Benny and Rock from the back of the landing in a rather awkward and comical display considering she was still holding her three cases. "Ya wanna see a fuckin' threat! I'll show you a threat!"

Chang merely chuckled in amusement since he and almost everyone else knew that she was just jerking his chain. He decided to placate her.

"Now, now, Two-hands, don't forget who taught you how to wield two guns." He looked down at her with a wry smirk and a triumphant gleam in his eye that showed when he lowered his sunglasses just a bit to watch her put her foot in her mouth. "Although, I don't doubt that you are indeed a threat. Now, follow me."

Chang led them through the ornately decorated hallway that was furnished with red and gold colored rugs and lined with a few stone lion statues. On one of the book cases at the far end of the hall, there was a fat Buddha incense burner. In this particular instance, Rock found that particular statue ironic given the recent attempt on the triad boss' life.

'He must not be rubbing Buddha's belly,' Rock thought, in reference to the belief that that particular Buddha brought good luck.

The inside of Chang's office/lair was much the same as the hallway: the overall theme of the room was red and gold with richly colored red walls, crimson and gold carpets, three black leather couches that were most likely sitting in some sort of Feng Shui pattern, and a glass coffee table in the middle of the couches. This room also had several golden dragon statues that were similar to the dragons on Chang's guns. There were two on either side of Chang's black wooden desk to the far right of the room, one on each side of the door that they'd entered, and one in the left hand corner opposite the door near the small bar.

"Just make yourselves comfortable." Chang said in a casual manner, "Would any of you like a drink?"

At the prospect of alcohol, Revy perked up from where she'd plopped down with her legs hanging over the seat of the couch. She paid no mind to the fact that her sudden movement was making Rock rather uncomfortable since he was getting squished between her and Dutch.

"Ya got any Bacardi in that fancy bar o' yours?"

"151?" Chang smirked in response.

"Fuckin' A!" The gunslinger exclaimed gleefully, shoving Rock into the floor when she jumped up in excitement. It had only been five days since the last time she had felt the burn of hard liquor in her throat, but that was far too long in her opinion.

Chang nodded his acknowledgement as he reached on the highest shelf behind his bar for the rum and poured four glasses. He also remembered two cans of the Lagoon Company's favored beer for Dutch and Benny.

The triad boss smirked, directing his next comment at Dutch in reference to his many good-natured complaints about the man's hospitality.

"You see, Dutch; that's what hospitality looks like. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" He chuckled as he set the tray down and each person took their respective drinks. Dutch merely frowned and gave a dismissive wave as he popped the top on his beer and took a swig.

"Alright then; let's get down to business, shall we?" Chang took a leisurely sip of rum and set it down on the table. With that simple action, the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift as his casual persona dropped in favor of a rarely seen darker side.

"Right then, as you probably have already deduced, the job I sent you on was partially a wild goose chase—I appreciate that you've made it back with my drugs and my man, by the way. For some time now, a Japanese yakuza syndicate has been attempting to muscle in on the triad's turf here in Roanapur, but recent events have led me to suspect that the triad is merely a smaller fish on the quest for the great white whale. "

Rock's eyes widened in surprise as he connected the dots of Chang's explanation.

"You don't mean…?"

"That's right, Rock." Chang said, taking a drag of his cigarette, "Balalaika."

"Well, well, Mr. Chang," A familiar voice called from the doorway, drawing all eyes in the room. "I see you've started this little meeting without me."

"Speak of the Devil!" Chang chuckled, moving over on the couch to make room for the Russian mafia boss.

Balalaika, however, wasn't in the mood for any pleasantries and skipped straight to saying her piece after taking her seat. Boris remained silent and stoic as ever as he stood behind her.

"It seems that someone is trying to muddy the waters here in Roanapur. We have reason to believe that that _someone_ has ties to the eliminated Washimine Group of Japan." With a snap of her fingers, Boris reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a picture, tossing it onto the coffee table.

"Fuck!" Revy and Rock both muttered in unison. There on the picture looking up at them, was Ginji Matsuzaki. "No wonder that fuckin' prick on the boat looked so familiar!" Rock nodded in agreement at her sentiment, aside from the fact that Ginji was several inches taller than "Shinji", the resemblance was quite striking.

Balalaika smiled grimly at their reactions while she cut a fresh cigar and lit it.

"The photo you're looking at was found among the debris outside Hotel Moscow this morning. This is a personal matter for the shithead that we're dealing with."

"Which brings us to the last two items of business," Chang snuffed out the glowing remnants of his cigarette and pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. "There's a lot I don't know about what happened in Japan, but I am aware that you two were as responsible for the fall of Washimine as Balalaika. That makes Lagoon company a potential target if this is indeed a personal matter for our dear friend. You killed Matsuzaki yourself, didn't you, two-hands?"

"Well, he did certainly seem to have it out for us during that little clusterfuck on the boat." Dutch added his two cents, remembering what Chang had said earlier. "Now what was that second item of business?"

"Two of Roanapur's major mafia figures have been attacked." Balalaika said, casually taking a puff of her cigar. "It goes without saying that things will get very ugly, very quickly." The members of the Lagoon company couldn't help but swallow thickly at the chilling gleam in Balalaika's eyes. Her bloodlust was surfacing for all to see, but they knew this was only the tip of the iceberg. "We know that you'd rather be as far away as possible from the carnage, and we acknowledge that you've been good to us thus far. However, in this case, I'm afraid it simply isn't possible for you to avoid the blood bath. We'll be needing your services in order to carry out this war."

"I see." Dutch spoke, downing what was left of his rum in one swift gulp. Chang was one thing, but anytime one of her comrades was killed, Balalaika would go looking for Satan himself until she had shed so much blood that no one would even dare look at her too long after that. "Well, normally I'd prefer not to get involved, but since we're already knee deep in this cesspool, I'll do what I can for the cause."

"Glad we got that settled, then." Chang said, snapping his fingers as he returned to his carefree demeanor. It was his second Lieutenant that answered him and passed a briefcase over to Dutch.

"I've raised your payment to $200,000 for your troubles. Have a drink on me at the Yellow Flag, why don't ya?"

"Fuck yes!" Revy yelled her approval as the group stood to leave the room. "Rock, you better get ready, I'm gonna drink your fuckin' ass under the table!

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><p>"Alright," Dutch spoke up soon after the group entered the GTO, "you two wanna fill me in? I never had a reason to ask, but just what the fuck happened in Japan?"<p>

Seeing as Revy was occupied with lighting her cigarette, Rock was the first to answer. He shook his head as the image of the katana entering Yukio's throat came unbidden into his mind.

"Well, long story short, it was one big mess. For the most part, we weren't involved, but I…I asked for the destruction of Washimine." The prospect of a drinking match with his partner seemed more appealing with each passing second. The whole ordeal was something that he'd rather keep in the back of his mind.

"Feh!" Revy huffed, sensing Rock's uneasiness and deciding to offer a simple explanation. "No big deal, really, boss man. That little girl heir to the clan's leadership just fucked with Rock's head. As for Ginji, I challenged him to a duel and he lost. Simple as that."

Both Dutch and Benny knew that it wasn't as simple as that, but neither of them saw fit to call the pair out on it as long as they all knew the important facts.

"I guess I can take that for now; now let's go get wasted."

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><p>Well, that's Chapter Five. I do apologize for the late update. I'm sure you all know how it is. Anyway, let me know what you think!<p> 


	6. The Calm Before the Storm

Alright! Lock 'n' load! We got chapter six comin' down the pipe! I hope you like it, please R & R! As always I own nothing!

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><p>Ch. 6: The Calm Before the Storm<p>

"My, my. What do we have here?" At the sound of the faux nun's voice, Lagoon's resident businessman tensed up on his barstool. "What are you doing in a place like this without some company, Rocky-boy?" Eda trailed a finger along his chest and down his arm and smirked as she watched him squirm away from her.

"Uh…Revy's in the…in the restroom." He informed the nun as she made herself comfortable on the barstool next to him and positioned herself so that he wouldn't be able to speak to her without getting an eyeful of her generous bosom. Rock silently prayed that his partner would come back and rescue him from this torture soon because he knew that Eda wouldn't let up otherwise.

"Oh, well how convenient." Her voice came out as a sultry purr as she slung an arm around the businessman's shoulder and leaned closer to his ear. "Why don't we have a little fun while she's away, huh?"

At her words and close proximity, Rock turned an even darker shade of red than he already was. He chuckled nervously when he felt Eda's left hand work it's way down to his belly. Meanwhile, Bao chuckled at the display from behind his newspaper.

"Come on, Eda, leave the poor boy alone. You know Revy's liable to shoot ya dead if she catches ya playing with him." Rock felt a flood of relief when the bartender came to his rescue, and the tension left his body, even though the phony nun was still wrapped around his shoulders. "Besides, this is a bar; not some damned whore house! Go upstairs to The Sloppy Swing if you want someone to fuck. Otherwise, order a fuckin' drink, you damn bitch!"

"Hows about a bloody mother fuckin' Theresa?" The Lagoon's resident gunslinger called from the side of the bar as she slowly approached. "Get off him y'bitch."

All three heads at the bar turned to regard Revy with different looks in their eyes; Bao with irritation, Rock with gratitude, and Eda with interest. She noticed that Revy's tone was only hovering at a minimal threat level, yet there was something distinctly territorial in her eyes. Yes, there was definitely something going on with her and the office boy. Curiosity prevailed against better judgment and she decided to prod.

"Well, what's this, now? Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"Eda teased, earning an irritable growl as Revy claimed the bar stool on Rock's other side.

"Fuck off, will ya!"

The blonde woman's smile only widened at the sight of a blush crawling across the other gunwoman's cheeks. She never thought she'd see the day that Revy would be blushing over a guy.

"Hey Rock," Eda cooed into his ear once more, causing both Lagoon crew members to tense up this time. "Why don't you come home with a real woman, tonight, hmm?"

Revy scoffed at that, bearing her teeth while her right hand twitched and moved closer to her left cutlass. Bao glared at her and was about to demand that she not turn his bar into a warzone again, when she beat him to the punch.

"Fuck you, whore! If I ain't woman enough for him, no one will be."

At this point, Rock was again blushing furiously as he stared intently into the copper colored depths of his Bacardi in an effort to remove himself from this awkward conversation. He too, had noticed the blush on Revy's cheeks in response to Eda's teasing a moment ago. He only hoped that it meant what he thought it did. Clearing his head of such thoughts for the moment, he downed his full glass of rum and attempted to diffuse the situation between the two women before it could start.

"So, Eda, what are your thoughts about what's going on around town?"

She looked taken aback for just a moment, taking a second to get into the mindset for this conversation.

"There's a real shit storm on the horizon, I'll tell you that. Even the Church is involved this time."

"Huh? What's that mean?" Revy wondered out loud. Normally, the Rip-off church took a neutral position in most of the town's conflicts. Choosing instead to carry on business as usual and deal weapons to paying customers as needed.

"It means that whatever poor soul got on Balalaika and Chang's shit list is bigger than we think." Eda took a swig of the beer that Bao had placed in front of her during his earlier rant and continued, "Old Fry-face herself paid a visit to the church a couple days ago after the after you guys got back into port. I thought the Sister was gonna have a stroke."

Revy perked up as if she was being pulled on strings, "No shit! I can just see the old bitch now!" The gunslinger's familiar barking laugh drowned out Eda's protests at the term "old bitch as Rock put his two cents in.

"Yes, I can't imagine Sister Yolanda would be happy to see Balalaika knocking on her door, especially considering that the mafia heads never found that blind spot they were looking for." Rock muttered under his breath, just loud enough for only the two women at his sides to hear the reference to his first trip to the Church of Violence.

"Hmmph." Eda huffed in mild amusement, taking a long swig of ale, "Now; now, Rocky-boy. That's all water under the bridge. Anyway, she seemed rather interested in our clients and told us if we didn't want a swim in the harbor, then we'd keep our clients local—kept grilling all of us about any recent 'Japonski' we might've seen. " Eda shrugged and took another long drink of booze, pushing that rather uncomfortable encounter to the back her mind.

"Yeah, It's so close I can fuckin' taste the blood, now." Revy commented of their situation, lighting up a cigarette.

"I know what you mean, Revy," Rock mirrored her actions and pulled out his own lighter, taking a long drag of his tobacco. "That meeting the other day was unsettling. It was like sitting at the base of two volcanos getting ready to erupt."

"Heh," Eda huffed, "Tell me about it. Hotel Moscow doesn't even like the Church, any time she finds it necessary to pay a personal visit to us is God damn nerve wracking. Hmm?" Rock watched on in surprised confusion when the nun turned her head just slightly to her left shoulder and brought a hand to grip her Glock.

"Speaking of Japonski, these guys wouldn't happen to be friends of yours, would they, Two-hands?"

"Don't know 'em, Eda." The familiar smile that Rock had seen countless times before surfaced as Revy gripped her left cutlass while poor Bao looked on in fear for the safety of his bar. The business man had no idea what had caused both women to go on high alert, but then, his eye caught the mirror hanging above the liquor shelves and he saw it: six Japanese men standing near the door. Even with their sunglasses on, Rock could tell that they were looking directly at the trio.

"Hey, Eda?" Revy's tone was mischievous as that sadistic smile grew even wider.

"Yeah, Revy?"

"Whaddaya say we give these assholes a little preview of what's waitin' for 'em?"

"Sounds good to me!" Eda replied over Bao's curses of protest as both women unholstered their weapons and spun around to face the men. They stopped abruptly when they were met with a raised hand from the man in the middle.

"We're only here to deliver a message." He patted himself down in an attempt to show that he was unarmed, though just about everyone in the bar was experienced enough to see the outline of a firearm inside his waistband.

Revy snorted at his words, "You dumb fuck. You think we don't know what your boss is up to?" She cocked both hammers and Eda followed suit, chambering a round in her own gun. "Tell ya what…" Revy fired on the first two men to raise their guns then rolled right while Eda knocked a table over for cover and Rock scrambled over to his own hiding spot near his partner in the midst of the gunfight.

"We'll let you live long enough to deliver your message!" Revy finished her statement, putting several bullets in the knocked over table to the side of the entrance that a couple of the men were using for cover. Meanwhile, most of the bars patrons who wished to stay out of the conflict either scrambled for the rear exit behind the bar or took their chances dodging bullets near the front. When a stray bullet broke the bottle beside his head, Bao ducked below the bar and grabbed his shot gun, surfacing just in time to pump the man responsible full of buckshot. That was three down; three to go.

"Revy, you bitch! I hope you know you're payin' for this!"

The gunslinger laughed as she ducked behind her table and put a fresh clip in each Cutlass. "Talk to Fry-face, old man!" With that she was back in action, emptying several rounds into the table. Eda and Revy both scored a few minor shots here and there when the enemy decided to be a little too brave, but otherwise, they were tough little bastards and they showed that they did not intend to go down without one hell of a fight.

"Fuck!" Eda yelled as she took a bullet straight to the left arm and promptly ducked back behind the table.

"Eda!"

"Don't you worry about me, guys." She took a moment to assess the wound. It was a pretty nasty shot to the bicep given that the Japanese were using jacketed hollow point ammunition, but it was nothing that would keep her out of this fight. Not by a long shot. She had a score to settle now.

She made her move when she heard the bastard finish reloading and start shooting again. She knew from the fact that she could no longer feel the impact of bullets against the table that he had targeted Revy. Perfect.

"Yippee kai yay, asshole!" she shouted, springing up and putting a bullet straight between his eyes. In the meantime, Revy had successfully tagged the fifth gunmen, which left only the messenger.

It only took a few more bullets before the man left his cover at the wrong time. After that, the gunfight was over in just two moves. Revy put a bullet in his left hand and stomach; Eda gave him a piercing in his right hand. Each woman blew on their smoking barrels while Rock emerged from his cover next to Revy. Bao simply let out a sigh of relief that it was over and there was only minimal damage to his bar…at least compared to past destruction. Revy and Eda holstered their guns and the trio cautiously stepped over to the man.

They found him struggling for breath and lying in a growing pool of blood behind Bao's ruined table. For the first time in the entire confrontation, Rock noted, the man looked truly frightened. Maybe he feared his fate now that it was before his eyes. None of them could say for certain.

"So, I'm guessing by that blood that you don't have long to live." Revy spoke casually, pulling out her lighter and lighting a brand new cigarette, "So why don't you make these last seconds count and deliver that message." She accentuated her statement by inhaling on her cigarette, making sure to stoop down and exhale it directly into the dying man's face.

The man looked only at Rock and Revy, addressing both of them as he spoke what the four of them knew would be his last words "Me…Meet Shinji" The man stopped to cough up blood and took one raspy breath before continuing, "At the d….docks….tonight." There was more rasping and more coughing. Rock turned his head away as memories of Japan came back fresh in his mind. No matter how evil a person in this seedy underworld may be, Rock truly sympathized with all of them when they met their gruesome ends.

"C-c-come alone…and tell no one…or he will wipe out your entire company…a-a…and anyone else who gets in the way of his vengeance."

With that, a final gunshot rang out in the bar and the sixth man lay lifeless at Revy's feet. Eda stood off to the side with widened eyes, comprehending the meaning of that message. This would not end well for anyone in the city.

"Well, that sounded fuckin' ominous enough."

"No shit."

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><p>And that is six! I hope you enjoyed the fun in this chapter, it's going to get serious for a little bit from here. Please R &amp; R!<p> 


	7. Seismic Rumblings

Well; well, chapter 7 already! Thanks to those that have read, and bigger thanks to those of you who have reviewed. I would like to clarify that when I say "One Day Ago" near the beginning of this chapter, it does mean the day before the bar shootout.

To Meech Macko: Don't fret too much; these things you have mentioned in each of your reviews will not be ignored. Also, I'd like to remind you(and anyone else who reads this) that this story takes place before El Baile de la Muerte and a few months after the events in Japan in the canon chronology. At this point, Rock hasn't really had enough extended interaction with Eda to be able to peg her as something more than what she seems. Afterall, everyone in Roanapur has skeletons in their closet. Anyway, that too will be addressed.

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><p>Ch. 7: Seismic Rumblings<p>

The familiar red GTO of the Lagoon Company cut through the Roanapur darkness like a knife. All three occupants of the car sat in an uneasy silence as each of them pondered the dead man's last words in their own way. Eda had hitched a ride back to the church with them given that she hadn't ridden her motorcycle and wasn't in ideal condition for such a dangerous walk through the city streets at this time of night. That was where the tension in the car came into play. Although Rock had his eye on the road and Eda was clutching her arm while looking out the window at passing marquees, to Revy it was almost as if they were having a silent conversation. It couldn't really be called a standoff since it wasn't a hostile vibe. This left Revy to sit quietly in the passenger seat and brood with jealousy at being left out.

For several minutes, they traveled the way to the church like that. The tension would originate with the driver, ooze into the backseat towards the wounded nun like a fog, drift up again to Revy, and then start all over. It was a silent Mexican standoff. When Rock could no longer stand the silence, he voiced what had been on his mind since observing Eda's subtle words and behavior on the subject of their foe.

"Eda?"

"Huh?" The woman was so deeply enmeshed in her thoughts and transfixed by the city lights that she jumped at the sound of her name, "Oh. Yeah, Rock?"

"Am I wrong, or do you seem to know more about this Shinji guy than you're telling us?" This time it was Revy who snapped out of her thoughts while Eda tensed up in the back seat. She was glad that neither of them was looking at her because she was certain that the crack in her armor just now would've given something away; if not to Revy, than certainly to the astute businessman. While she had grown to genuinely care about the Lagoon Company in spite of her job, regrettably, she was still CIA and could only disclose so much without blowing her cover.

She smiled, regaining what little composure had been lost, "Oh, a few things." She said coyly, indicating that she knew quite a bit more than a few things on the subject. "The Rip-Off Church has a pretty decent knowledge of most of the major players in the underworld. You'd be surprised how many of our customers have big mouths."

Only two people in Roanapur knew of Eda's true nature. Given the Church's corrupt nature, no one else had any reason to suspect that she was more than she appeared. That's the way it would stay. If Revy ever found out she was CIA, she'd be six feet under in two seconds.

Revy scoffed, "That's all _so_ interesting, but what _do _you know about this prick, Eda?"

Height, weight, family history, criminal history, what the man eats for breakfast. "I'll tell you this, Two-hands, he's not someone to be taken lightly. You do that, and, well, you'll be goin' straight to heaven…or hell in your case." Eda continued, ignoring Revy's indignant growl. "From what I've heard of him, neither he nor his men make a move unless it serves their purpose. And rumor has it that he's got enough man power to match good ol' Fry-face herself."

Having dodged a bullet for the moment, Eda relaxed back into her seat while Revy pulled a cutlass out and twirled it. Even if her death was likely, the prospect of this kind of a gun fight excited her to the core. Rock, on the other hand, was anything but excited at this new information. A trip to Phuket beach was sounding real nice right about now. Still, something more bothered Rock about the nun's story. It was clear that she knew what she was talking about, but if she really was getting this information from hearsay, then she wouldn't be able to be so confident about its authenticity. It was also clear to him that whatever her secret was, she wanted to keep secret. She wasn't going to offer him more than flimsy answers or vague riddles; at least not in front of Revy.

'Then again,' Rock thought, 'I guess no one is truly what they seem in this city.'

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><p><em>One Day Ago<em>

_It was mid-morning and the sun was just beginning to rise above the Rip-Off Church's familiar steeple. So far, the morning was a peaceful one. For those wishing to avoid the constant bloodshed of the city, yet still remain within view of it, the Church was an ideal location. _

_On this particular morning, the serenity was occasionally broken by the profane squawking speech of Yolanda's bird. It seemed that the phrase du jour was "dick head". The speech was the only thing that irked the mother superior about that bird. To her, it was such a beautiful creature, but in the end, even the bird was tainted by the walking dead of Roanapur._

_At the present moment, the one-eyed woman in question was the only inhabitant of the church to wake. Try as she might, she couldn't get Rico or Eda to follow her example. They both were of the mind that they shouldn't bother waking up for mass if no one attends, anyway. Yolanda, on the other hand, had maintained the same ritual for over thirty years since the city was founded. She'd originally started the church as a way to make easy money since, in her younger days; she encountered religious people who were so willing to give money to a "cause". After it became clear that Southeast Asia belonged to Satan and God alone would make her no money here, she began to deal firearms to the people in the young town nearby while posing as a nun. Overtime, though, she'd actually grown to consider herself a real woman of the cloth. The only key differences being that she never took the vows that she followed and she carried a gun._

_Irritation washed over the old woman yet again when she strolled into the chapel to find the reason that Rico and Eda were still asleep at this hour._

"_My; my, what do we have here?" She picked up an empty tumbler that still had traces of hard liquor clinging to it._

"_That woman will be the death of me, yet." She muttered, placing it back down just as she heard tires pulling up outside._

'_I wonder who that could be.' Yolanda wondered, looking towards the over-sized wooden doors at the front of the chapel. To the best of her recollection, they weren't expecting any customers today. The answer came a few moments later when she heard a knock at the door, followed by a friendly voice._

"_Open up, Yolanda! Don't ya know it's hot out here?" _

_The woman smiled before walking the path down the aisle towards the door. "Mr. Chang," She said, opening one of the massive wooden doors to reveal the triad boss with Shenhua on his left and Biu on his right. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had anticipated this visit sooner or later since word of the attack on the Triad and Hotel Moscow two days ago reached her ears. She just didn't expect a visit from either Mafioso this soon._

"_Sorry to disappoint, Sister, but I'm actually here for Eda. She around?" Chang and his group strode casually past the head nun and into the main chapel. The triad boss eyed the empty glasses and bottles at the altar with a chuckle. Yep, Eda was in all right._

"_She is; I'll get her for you." The elder woman turned towards a hall that connected the chapel to the living quarters and was surprised to see the woman in question emerge from the darkness._

"_There's no need for that, Sister."_

"_Well then," Chang spoke giving a subtle nod to his subordinates to stand down for the moment, "Shall we go somewhere a bit more private, Sisters." Both women obliged him and they went back to a meeting room adjacent to the chapel. In any normal church, one such room would be designated as the sacristy and would be used as storage for ceremonial tools; the Rip-off Church, however, had no need for such things._

"_So, I guess the reason I'm here goes without saying." Chang said, finally pulling out the cigarette that he had been craving in the chapel and lighting it while kicking his feet up on the coffee table._

"_Indeed," Yolanda confirmed, taking a seat across from him to Eda's left, "Miss Balalaika already paid us a very thorough visit, yesterday." _

"_Good, that saves me the trouble of explaining our problem." He took a leisurely puff of his cigarette and pulled a picture out of his coat pocket._

"_The trouble starts with this man: Ginji Matsuzaki. Our new friend has ties to this man. According to Lagoon Company, he calls himself 'Shinji Hakubi'." Eda's eyes widened with interest and sudden recognition both at seeing the picture and hearing that name. Boss Chang took note of her expression and addressed her next._

"_As it stands, his name is about the only thing we know about him; other than that, he's a ghost. I figured given your 'connections' that this would be the best place to start looking if I wanted to avoid grabbing too much attention." He took another inhale of his cigarette and then placed it back in his mouth where he began to chew on it. "So, how 'bout it, Eda?"_

_Eda smirked grimly and removed her sunglasses, looking at Chang directly. "Put simply, he's one bad ass mother fucker." She ignored the slight look of disapproval she was receiving from Yolanda and reached into her nun's habit for her pack of gum. "For starters, Hakubi is an alias. His birth name is Matsuzaki; he's this guy's brother." She accentuated that statement by tapping the photo on the table. "His influence extends quite a bit further than his brother's did. In fact, he's got at least as many men at his beck and call as you or Balalaika." She watched as Chang twirled his cigarette in his mouth in thought. He seemed to be getting pumped up at the idea of taking such a foe on. Eda guessed that it was because he hadn't seen much direct action in Roanapur in a while. The closest he had come to war himself had been back when the vampires twins had been set loose._

"_You have anything else you can tell me?" _

"_Of course." Eda smirked, popping her gum, "He's wanted by several major agencies ranging from Interpol to FBI. Even the guys over at Scotland Yard would love to take a crack at him."_

"_But…" Chang supplied_

"_But, he's obviously very cautious; and well protected. Aside from his underlings, he's a professional killer himself. He's very proficient in a wide variety of blades and firearms. He's also been described as very persuasive." Eda tilted her head back in thought for a moment and then slipped her sunglasses back on._

"_That's all I got for ya, Mr. Chang."_

Thinking back on that now from her cell in the church living quarters, Eda wondered if she had been under cover for too long. Sure she still had that spark in her eyes that everyone else in Roanapur but Rock lacked, but with each passing day it seemed to grow smaller when she took her sunglasses off. There was also the fact that she had voluntarily given over classified information to a mafia boss in the genuine hope that it would aid her friends in their impending fight and help keep this city intact that she called home. She laughed to herself at that thought. How fucked up was she that she had actually come to like the city of shit and sin more than her own homeland…more than her job.

* * *

><p>"Miss Balalaika," Dutch stated, opening the Lagoon office door fully to allow her and Boris entry into his office. It was around ten on a Monday morning and, surprisingly, everyone was already gathered in the office despite the fact that Rock and Revy had been out drinking late the previous night.<p>

"What can I do for you this mornin'?" He asked politely, offering the pair a seat. Balalaika accepted the offer while Boris chose to remain standing, taking his mistress' great coat from her shoulders before she sat on the couch.

"I wonder if I might have a word with Rock and Two-Hands." She spoke calmly, retrieving an old cigar and reigniting it.

"What about?"

The Russian's initial answer was to let loose a mouthful of smoke into the air, "The owner of the Yellow Flag contacted me regarding damages to his bar, this morning. It seems the two were involved in a fire fight with a group of Japanese men at some point last night."

"You'll forgive me if I don't know anything, myself, about that," Dutch said, standing and making his way over to the small kitchen area. He opened the liquor cabinet above the coffee pot and offered both Russians a bottle of his finest Vodka, which they accepted. "If I kept track of everyone Revy pumped lead into, I wouldn't have space left in my noggin' for anything else."

Almost on cue, The pair that Balalaika had come to see came walking through the door at the top of the staircase. Revy was carrying a sack full of Lagoon Company's usual groceries, while Rock was carrying a bag of spare parts for the PT boat.

"Well, would you look at that, Rock." Revy glanced at Balalaika and Boris before setting her bag on the counter top, leaving Rock to follow suit. "That only took all of about six hours." Revy deadpanned, picking an empty seat and lighting two cigarettes, passing one to her partner.

"What? Did Bao send you to skin my ass for him?"

"No, not at all." The Russian chuckled, going along with the gunslinger's joking for the moment. "Actually he was quite happy to hear that I'd be paying for the damages…_again." _Balalaika had gone from a casually bantering tone to a deeply annoyed dark tone by the final word. She and Boris each took a sip of the Vodka that Dutch offered them. "Truth be told, Two-hands I am getting rather tired of paying to fix that bar." She said, glowering mildly at Lagoon's hired gun.

Revy growled with irritation, "First Bao; now you? I really hope you didn't come all this way just to chastise the way I use my boys!"

"No." Balalaika smiled, "I merely came here to inquire about who you used them on last night." She gently tapped her Cuban on the edge of the ashtray residing on the coffee table to rid it of the excess ash at its tip.

On his end, Rock had known that a conversation with Balalaika was likely after last night's little conflict, but as he sat mulling over the dying rasps of their unnamed enemy, the businessman became unsettled. From what little Eda had said, this man seemed like he would be capable of having eyes on them without their notice. So he spoke up just as Revy was about to start talking.

"Wait; Revy."

"Rock." She said in her impatient tone, exhaling a cloud of toxic smoke as she did so. "You didn't really think we were gonna listen to that prick's warning, did ya?" The gunslinger copied Balalaika's earlier use of the ashtray and ruffled Rock's hair in a patronizing manner. "I mean, we were gonna have to tell Sis here." For all his intellect and the fact that he had his own sharpened instincts for danger due to his time in this city, Revy, in particular, could still underestimate him at times.

"No, I…It's not that." Rock abruptly pushed her hand away in a fit of annoyance, leaving her surprised. "Didn't you listen to Eda?" He was on his feet now, looking down at her with deep concern in his eyes. Rock shut his eyes and shook his head against the memory of Eda's warning to Revy that she'd die if she took Shinji lightly. That was the very last thing that he wanted.

"Anyway," He addressed Balalaika in a manner that was just slightly off kilter, not giving his partner a chance for what he was sure would be a heated rebuttal. "My concern is about safety. How can we be certain that he doesn't have ears listening in on us?"

Balalaika brought a finger up to her chin as she thought for a moment. The possibility of espionage honestly hadn't occurred to her yet, either. "Yes, that is a good point." Her head lowered and her burned face turned to meet the Lagoon boss' hidden gaze. "Dutch, your entire crew was at sea the day of the attacks, is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"Comrade Sergeant." Boris snapped into attention upon being addressed, "Ma'am?"

"You know the drill."

With that, Boris nodded and began searching each of the most likely nooks and crannies of the office for anything that should not be there. Three cigars later, he ended his search with empty hands and returned to his post behind the Kapitan.

Now that Rock's immediate worry was eased for the moment, Revy resumed her account of events leading to the deaths of the Japanese men at the bar. She and Rock explained how they were simply having a drink with the nun from the Rip-off church and then went on to tell her about the message and the following shoot out.

"I see." Balalaika spoke pensively. That tactical look that she got whenever she was playing a mental game of chess and planning the total annihilation of a particularly difficult adversary adorned her eyes as she stared into her half-empty glass of vodka. "Well Rock," She met the former salary man's gaze with that cold, calculating look. "I must say I agree with your attitude. Chang has already filled me in on a few details about our problem. Caution and subtlety will be our best friends right now." At that statement, the Soviet gangster's eyes bored straight into Revy with a knowing look. The tattooed brunette responded merely by crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head the other way. Unfortunately for Rock, however, her reaction to Balalaika's warning had caused his face to contort into a concerned expression, which was brought directly into his partner's field of view when she turned away from Balalaika.

Judging by the glare he received, Rock wasn't entirely successfully in his attempt to drop that expression. He dropped his shoulders and exhaled deeply in defeat. He knew one thing for certain, no matter what happened, they were due for a long talk…maybe even several. True enough, memories of Japan had been stirred up since this whole thing started and most of them he could live with, but that terrible image of his partner writhing on the concrete with a blade protruding from her shin was a sight that would stick with him for a long time. Rock had no desire to relive that situation.

'It may not be avoidable, though…'He thought, getting lost in his own thoughts while Dutch began chatting with Balalaika and Boris.

The white collar was snapped from his thoughts when, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he registered the mention of a plan for Revy and Rock's meeting with that night.

"It's obviously a trap." Came Dutch's voice.

"Agreed." Balalaika responded, "That little detail is most troubling to me. We already know that this is a personal matter to the man, but it seems rather counter-productive that he would risk coming after Lagoon without first taking out the more powerful Triad and Hotel Moscow forces."

"Maybe not." Rock chimed in again

"Hmm?"

Rock narrowed his eyes in contemplation, "Think about it; almost every gang in Roanapur has come to rely on this company to the point that your business would be severely crippled without our services." He leaned forward in his seat and looked the Kapitan directly in her scarred face. "Maybe that's what his secondary aim is."

"Yes, that does make good sense, Rock. Sometimes it's a wonder you don't carry any weapons with the way that brain works." He was sure she meant it as a compliment, but he wasn't very comfortable with having his way of thinking compared to a soldier's. "Now we have an idea of the why; what about how? How are we going to go about this meeting tonight?"

Once again, Rock felt himself tense up as the last moments of the gunfight at the bar ran through his head.

"_Come alone and tell no one."_ That was a threat that he was not willing to test, especially if it meant the difference between life and death for his friends; so, for the second time in six months, Rock did something completely insane. He challenged Balalaika.

"Miss Balalaika," his voice was firm yet it betrayed an underlying tone of fear as considered his next move and remembered the feeling of being pressed against that car hood with a gun to his face. "With all due respect, I'd appreciate it if you did not get involved with this meeting, tonight."

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><p>That's chapter 7! As always, I hope you liked it, please R &amp; R!<p> 


	8. Seismic Rumblings Pt 2

Well, last chapter ended on a bit of a cliff hanger, eh? This one'll start out pretty tense and there will be action! Anyway, I hope you enjoy; I own nothing!

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><p>Chapter Eight: Seismic Rumblings Pt. 2<p>

"Miss Balalaika, with all due respect, I'd appreciate it if you did not get involved with this meeting, tonight."

"ROCK!" Revy yelled; she and Dutch both hurled a few stray obscenities into the empty air and Revy's right hand twitched ever so slightly. The atmosphere in the room had done a complete 180 and now the three present members of the Lagoon Company would like nothing more than to put their heads so far up their asses that they actually disappear. To their surprise, Balalaika let out an amused chuckle while Boris cracked the slightest of smiles.

"I really do like you, Rock," she began in a pleasant enough tone; still smiling as she crushed the remaining life out of her cigar into the ashtray. It was not to last, however, as the friendly expression gradually gave way to one that Rock had seen directed at him only once before. He had anticipated having to butt heads with Balalaika again before this fiasco was over, which was why he had made sure to point out the Lagoon Company's value to the head of Hotel Moscow.

"Fuck." Rock heard Revy breathe from his side as his eyes remained locked with the Kapitan's. She was no doubt getting ready to pull her cutlass since he noticed Boris inching closer to his coat pocket in the periphery of his vision.

"But do not mistake your being valuable for being irreplaceable." Any trace of kindness was gone from her voice and her tone took on a chilling, ominous, quality. "This is _our _war, and Hotel Moscow will proceed as I see fit." She pulled her Stechkin on him, but did not cock it, provoking more swearing from Dutch and Revy as both of them drew their weapons along with Boris.

In spite of the intense fear he felt at once again looking down the barrel of this bloodthirsty woman's gun, Rock stood his ground. "That's exactly my point, Miss Balalaika."

"Oh?"

"When two armies go to war, the goal is to win. You, as a soldier, should know better than me that an army wins by making choices that benefit that goal the most." Rock continued to bore through the Russian as he spoke, and he could see that, just maybe, he was beginning to get through to her.

"My point is: perhaps your usual 'might makes right' approach is not in your best interest, right now; I know you want revenge, but maybe that's clouding your judgment."

Balalaika gave him a long searching look; he did make his point quite well. She wanted Shinji's blood so badly that she could taste it. Still, even as she lowered her firearm and began to laugh quite hysterically, something told her that this meeting would prove more than they could handle alone. "You're good. You're very good." She spoke in between laughs before composing herself and putting her gun away, prompting everyone else to do the same; sighs of relief accompanied this action on Lagoon's end.

"Amusing as always, Rock. I see your point" She gave him a knowing look that implied that, while she had indeed been wrong, he was actually worried about the safety of his Lagoon family. "Very well, then. You may proceed as you see fit, tonight."

Then, just as the pair of Russians reached the door to the office, Balalaika turned to address the businessman once again.

"Oh, Japonski, perhaps it would be in _your_ best interest to find a new hobby. Hmm?" And with that, the two Russians left the Lagoon Company sitting in their places on the couch, unable to speak for the shock and fear that each of them felt for the business man.

Dutch was the first one to find his voice. He pushed his sunglasses back up his nose to cover his widened eyes and retrieved the cigarette that had fallen from his open lips in the aftermath of that tense stand-off.

"Rock, you are one crazy son of a bitch."

Revy, too shocked for words, merely muttered an "uh-huh" in agreement. Before Rock, Chang was the only person she knew of to survive a confrontation with Balalaika after she had become head of Hotel Moscow. Revy never thought that Rock, of all people, would have it in him to survive one stand-off, much less two. If she hadn't witnessed both of them, she wouldn't believe it. She still wasn't sure she believed her eyes.

'It's probably that 'twilight' bullshit Rock keeps goin' on about. Only he could get through to some of the biggest badasses in the world like that.'

* * *

><p>"ROCK!" Revy's fist crashed hard into the side of his face once they were safely ensconced in the privacy of her bedroom, effectively sending her partner careening through the air to land roughly on her bad.<p>

"You fuckin' _dumbass!"_ Almost as soon as he'd landed, the wild gunwoman was already crossing the room to jerk him back up by his collar. "It's not enough that you had to go and piss of that crazy bitch once, but you fuckin' did it _twice! _Fuck!" She was shaking him now, and shaking with rage. Rock could almost feel the heat radiating off of the dangerous woman before him.

"What? Do you have a fuckin' death wish, or somethin'? Is that it?" She screamed out, her tone had escalated from that same scared shitless/livid combination she'd used last time he pulled this stunt and now hovered somewhere around some combination of utterly terrified, deeply worried, and enraged that could only come with seeing someone you care about very deeply do something stupid enough to die. She was almost completely unhinged in a manner he'd not seen since he first joined. Even so, Revy was still aware that her last question left little room for her to continue arguing.

"Look, I've been in a shitload o' gunfights, fine! But, I ain't crazy enough to walk into a goddamn lion's den slathered in fuckin' meat!" She threw him roughly out of her grasp, and to her surprise, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as he began to reciprocate her foul mood.

"Oh really?" Rock advanced back into her face, with his will to fight stirring inside of him. "Isn't that exactly what you're so eager to do?"

Revy just scoffed at him, though her face was still contorted into her livid expression. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"You've been acting like this fight's just gonna be some walk in the park! Jesus, Revy!" Rock stopped and considered his next words carefully while Revy watched his face soften into an expression of emotion that she couldn't quite identify, yet for some reason, she found that it touched her deeply when his eyes bored into her and straight to her scarred soul.

"Don't you remember?" He asked of her in a soft voice. "Don't you remember how that fight ended?" Even without seeing his eyes briefly flicker down to her right leg, she knew that he was talking about the fight with Ginji. That was something from the trip to Japan that had haunted both of them. Revy had always thought that she wouldn't care if she was about to die; that she would just accept the end of her shitty life and that would be it. Then, she was so close she could almost feel the grim reaper's breath on her neck, and all she wanted to do was live.

"You said yourself that, if that man hadn't become distracted, _you _would be dead, Revy. Now, Shinji is shaping up to be a tougher opponent, and it worries me to see you treating this so casually." Rock paused for a moment, taking the sight of Revy in as if he'd never see her again and he was trying to memorize her appearance. It took all of his will power to suppress the tears that were forming at the back of his eyes as he was overwhelmed with his feelings for his partner, "I just don't want to see you get hurt again. I…" He stopped himself there before he could get ahead of himself. As much as he wanted his feelings known, he didn't want to spill his guts prematurely.

As she listened to Rock's soft words, Revy's expression had relaxed quite a bit. Looking into his gentle eyes while he was speaking, Revy had seen the truth in them. Just as she would use her guns to kill anyone who threatened him (and to a lesser extent, Dutch and Benny), he would use his words to stand up to anyone necessary to ensure her safety, no matter how big their guns or how vast the collection of them. She was also moved and confused. Rock was the only person in her life up to this point to be so open and adamant about her well-being.

She smiled, closing the already small distance between the pair and wrapping an arm around him in an awkward, yet comfortable gesture that stunned the hell out of Rock. "Sorry, partner." She spoke directly into his ear in a raspy whisper that sent shivers up his spine. For several moments, the novice Lagoon member stood with widened eyes like a deer in the head lights. Gradually, cautiously, he moved his arms around her slim waist.

"Me too." The reply sent the same shivers through Revy that had gone up Rock's spine.

They stood like that for several long moments, neither one moving or talking, just taking in the warmth and comfort of each other and making a silent amends for their respective actions. Revy was the first one to break free, to Rock's disappointment, and to his surprise, stood back with his pack of cigarettes in her hand and a cheeky smile on her face. He gave a slight smile at that action. It would be just like her to pretend to hug someone for a pack of smokes just to save her tough reputation.

Just as they each lit up a cigarette, there was a knock on Revy's door. "Hey Rock, you alive in there?" They heard Benny's voice call through the door; both figured he must've gotten back sometime during the argument.

"Yeah," Rock smiled at Revy's annoyed expression, "I'm alive."

"Good. Dutch called for you two; company meeting."

A few moments later, everyone was assembled in the main office, once again. Rock shrunk when the boss look directly at him and demanded, "You. Sit." Rock felt like a child about to be reprimanded by his father for some wildly inappropriate misbehavior, and he was, sort of. Dutch was the closest thing he had to a real father since his own had never cared much for him and had tossed him aside when he didn't get into college the first year out of school.

"Rock." Dutch spoke, heaving a deep sigh once the white collar had sat down across from him. Benny and Revy just remained quiet and did their best to give the pair privacy. "What you did took a lot o' guts, kid. But, frankly, it was also one of the stupidest stunts I've ever seen."

"I know…" Rock offered, only to be cut off by Dutch.

"Oh, I wasn't finished, and please, don't patronize me, Rock. That just hurts." A humorless grin crossed the older man's face. "If you 'know' it's stupid, you wouldn't have done it twice. You are not a stupid man. Anyway, if you wanna go get yourself shot all to hell, be my guest, but I will say this once and only once." Dutch maintained his calm manner as he reached up and removed his sunglasses so that he could look his employee directly in the eye to emphasize his point, "Don't ever put me in a position to draw a weapon on Balalaika, again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, "The boss slipped his favored sunglasses back on, and continued to speak, this time praising Rock. "And I don't mean to undermine that whole lecture, but, good job."

"Now, about this meeting; does anyone have a plan?"

After several moments of silence, three pairs of eyes fell on Rock. "What's everyone looking at me for?"

Dutch just smiled as he reached into his flak jacket for a pack of cigarettes, "Oh, I'm sorry, Rock. 'I'd appreciate if you didn't get involved with this meeting.' As foolish as goin' into this fight may be, something is better than nothing. You've been with us long enough to know that. Regardless of why you opened your crazy-ass mouth, you wouldn'ta said anything if you had nothin'."

The businessman nodded and thought over the limited information they had on their enemy while his co-workers waited patiently for him to say something. They all knew that this meeting was likely a trap, but Rock wasn't certain which members of Lagoon it was meant to be a trap for.

"Well, can we all agree that this is some kind of ploy?"

"No shit, dumbass." Revy snorted, while Dutch just narrowed his eyes in curiosity and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Just hear me out. We know it's a setup, but we don't know who for. It could be a trick to lure Revy and me away and try to kill us. It could be an attempt to lure us away so that they can dispose of the two of you more easily as payback for Ginji. It could also be a combination of the two." Rock's eyes lit up with the devious sparkle of midnight that Roanapur had brought out in him. "That's where my plan comes in."

"What the hell do you have up those fancy sleeves o' yours, boy?"

"First off, Benny, do you think you can find something a little bit more discreet than our headsets to communicate with?"

The mechanic raised an eyebrow with piqued curiosity, "It's a little short notice, but I think I can dig something up."

Rock nodded, "Good, we'll need five sets."

"Five?"

Rock smirked, knowing Revy would likely bitch at his answer, "Yes. I think we should bring Sister Eda along."

"What? That limp-wristed whore doesn't even have two working arms, right now!" Revy hollered, baffled as to why the fuck Rock would need Eda in his plan.

"So? That doesn't stop you in a gunfight, besides; she's only going to be there as back up." Rock countered, turning his attention, now, to Dutch. "Which brings me to weapons."

"Benny will help you and Eda will carry a case with three of our heaviest weapons of your choice up to a safe vantage point after you drop Revy and me off."

Each member of the Lagoon Company was smiling now as they caught on to Rock's plan.

"We should assume that they'll have eyes on us when we get to the meeting point, so we should take caution not to be seen with each other. I'm sure you know the rest, Dutch."

"If we run into any scouts, kill 'em. If we're seen, kill 'em. Other than that, just sit back and watch the show unless you two need some firepower." Dutch confirmed

"Fuckin' A, Rock. The boss man's strategy guides have been good for ya!" Revy exclaimed, clapping Rock on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>Later that night, in the industrial end of Roanapur, two figures stood inside an abandoned warehouse near the docks. The shorter of the two appeared to be a young Japanese male somewhere in his late twenties. He was a man of broad stature that continued into his facial structure. He had long black hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail, though his face remained devoid of any facial hair. The man wore a black pin-stripe suit with dress shoes to match and a katana on his back.<p>

Beside this man stood his boss, Shinji Matsuzaki. In contrast to his cohort, Shinji was slightly taller than the average Japanese male at 5'10, though he was still shorter than his deceases brother. He also bore a strong resemblance to Ginji, save for the fact that his hair was slicked back and the major features of his face seemed to be more defined with a single scar running diagonally across his left eye. The clothes he wore were similar in style to his subordinates, except he wore a lengthened dress coat with a shirt reminiscent of an informal kimono top in the place of a normal dress shirt. This shirt showed off a rather ornate mosaic tattoo that covered hise chest and crawled up his neck. He also had a pair of swords in his belt as well as a custom stainless steel Glock 19 hidden underneath his coat.

"Master?" The younger man asked, checking his watch and noting that their guest should be arriving soon, though they weren't given a specific time.

"Yes, Shimi?"

"You said you don't want to kill these people tonight, why not?" Shimi was genuinely confused as to why his mentor and boss would come all this way to exact revenge and not take it at the first chance.

Shinji appeared to contemplate this question for a moment before he came up with a suitable explanation to address both the asked question and the underlying question.

"Everyone is expendable, Shimi." The shorter man was taken aback at the statement and he felt his eyes widen involuntarily as he watch a coy smile splay itself across his master's face.

"Life is one long game of chess. Some of us are pawns; others kings, queens, and knights. We're all just playing in one big sadistic game for the amusement of a so called "God". Pawns get used and thrown away, but it takes kings and queens to rule the board."

Shimi was only more confused as he didn't really see what any of this had to do with his question, so he cautiously asked, "Master Shinji?"

"I want to test them to see if my brother was killed by a pawn or a queen. If they are mere pawns, then my brother deserved his fate and I don't have to worry about bloodying my hands to kill them. If they survive, and prove their worth, then I will avenge him myself. Either way, Hotel Moscow will be in ruins for their injustice to the Tokyo yakuza."

"I see." Shimi uttered rather pensively. He was a violent man, but he didn't share the same bleak, even egotistical, outlook of life that his boss had come to know.

"Shimi."

"Yes?"

"It's time; send group three out."

"Aren't they our least trained?"

"Exactly." Shinji's lips curled into a knowing smile and Shimi could only guess at whatever twisted thought was going through his mind.

Revy and Rock continued to walk through an open square in the dock's freight yard. They'd been here for fifteen minutes and so far there was no sign of the enemy; however, they really hadn't expected it yet, the pair was simply stalling to give the rest of their group time to set up on top of the freight. In the end, Dutch had chosen one each of three different weapons: one rocket launcher, a minigun, and a grenade launcher. If the CIA wasn't already interested in Shinji Matsuzaki, the minigun would've been enough to convince her to come along. She had drooled involuntarily upon seeing it and forbade anyone else to use it.

"Rock, Revy, you there?" The sound of Dutch's voice was heard over the earpieces that Benny had managed to get his hands on.

"We're here, Bossman."

"Everything's set up here, now it's all you."

"Hey, Romeo." Eda chimed in, "don't get hurt too badly out there, okay? I'd be lonely without you." Her sultry tone caused Rock's expression to deadpan as his cheeks reddened and Revy muttered, "Step off, you crippled bitch" into her earpiece.

"Hey Revy?" Rock asked; his eyes wondered from warehouse to the next, scanning for any sign of a threat. "Do you feel that?"

The gunslinger grinned, baring her canines as she unholstered her guns. "We're being watched." She inhaled deeply, picking up on a unique scent that a person like Rock could not detect or even understand. "And that's the stench of gutter filth all around us. We're surrounded" Her partner merely gave her a questioning glance before turning his eyes back to the front. He didn't think he would ever understand her ability to pinpoint her opponents without being able to lay eyes on them or even hear them. Then again, maybe he was the one who couldn't hear.

"Does anyone have a visual?" Rock asked into his headset, hoping that one of the others would be able to confirm a position so he wouldn't be totally blindsided by an attack.

It was Benny who responded; though he didn't have the answer Rock was hoping for. "Negative, Rock."

Moments later, Rock had to fight to keep his balance when Revy stopped short in front of him.

"There's no need for that." Her tone was free of all emotion, indicating that she'd already passed into battle mode. "They're here."

"What?" Rock's eyes darted everywhere and then back to Revy, "What do you…?" He realized that she was just staring straight ahead, so he followed her empty gaze to the warehouse that sat on the water's edge. There was no one there yet, but Rock did take notice of an unmarked freight ship that he did not recognize sitting just beyond the warehouse. The majority of Roanapur's sea traffic consisted of regular visitors, so it was quite a coincidence that this new ship would be here in the same spot.

"Hey, Dutch." Revy spoke in that chillingly hollow tone into her headset, "Don't interfere unless we ask."

The boss wasn't given a chance to respond, however, as a bullet whizzed past Revy's head. In an instant, her pupils dilated and her face came to life again as more bullets began to rain down from the group of about thirty soldiers who were making themselves known. Rock did his best to tuck and roll out of the way, receiving a mild graze to his arm from a stray bullet. He figured if he just stayed as invisible as possible then they would focus on Revy.

While Revy was preoccupied with the gunmen, though, a smaller group of swordsmen broke from the group and ran towards their position. Revy growled as she fired a round at one of them, in an attempt to keep them from reaching her partner, but what happened next surprised the entire Lagoon Company.

"Shit!" The pair cursed simultaneously, watching as the man that Revy shot at cut cleanly through a bullet. "Don't tell me these assholes are gonna be just like Jumbo!"

In the meantime, Eda had taken it upon herself to kill a few of the swordsmen who were about to get to Rock and he had picked up one of their swords. He was managing to use it quite effectively against the remaining swordsman, but he knew that he would lose if this fight were to be dragged out too long.

For her part, Revy had already successfully managed to cut down half of their number, but at a price. The layout of the open freight yard provided little cover for Revy, and so, she had taken multiple grazes. She also had to admit that these guys were some of the toughest fuckers she'd ever shot. Some of the tougher men would take two or three bullets to the torso and still get up, shooting right up until they were too weak to stand and ultimately died from blood loss.

A good ten minutes later, Revy had successfully wiped out the entire group except for one sword man. Then she realized that she had lost track of Rock somewhere in the conflict and had a momentary panic attack until a metallic clang met her ears. Her eyes went wide when she turned and took in the sight of Rock with sword in hand and a brand of fire in his eyes that she'd never seen. He was sweaty, and his tie was ruined, no doubt due to a swipe from the other man's sword. In addition, he had several minor cuts on his face and arms that were seeping blood, as well as a shallow bullet graze on his left arm.

The other man, however, was better conditioned than Rock was, and clearly more skilled. He didn't appear to be any worse for wear at all, and he showed no signs of exhaustion.

Revy knew that Rock would lose this fight once Rock's fatigue overcame his motivation, so she pulled her cutlass out and shot the man in the side of the head. Rock breathed a sigh of relief and threw away the sword. He knew that even if he had been good enough to win, he could not have brought himself to kill.

The partners looked up when they heard a slow clap emanating from the entrance of the warehouse.

* * *

><p>Well, well. Things are heating up. Next chapter things get even more interesting. Stay tuned! Also, as I side note, I'd like to say that I'm aware that the chess metaphor I used in this chapter is not entirely accurate. There is a point to that.<p> 


	9. The Meeting

We're at Chapter nine, already! This chapter is going to start out slow, but there will be even more action to come. The story will also start focusing more heavily on Eda at this point. Anyway, as always, please R & R! Also, to all of you who reviewed concerning swords vs. guns; I was thinking about the very same thing a few days ago. Don't get me wrong, I know firsthand just what it takes to use a fire arm proficiently; it isn't as easy as many who have never picked up a gun think it is, but the killing aspect does seem like it would be very impersonal as opposed to the use of swords.

Ch. 9: The Meeting

In a comic display, the trio stationed on top of the freight each removed their respective pairs of glasses and cleaned them as their own Japanese man threw the sword away. By all accounts, Rokuro Okajima was the very definition of a pacifist—probably the sole person in the city not to turn a blind eye to shameless bloodletting, even though he had adjusted well to it during his time there. The sight of him wielding anything that was made for killing, without the slightest hint of hesitation, came as quite a shock.

"Dutch," Benny placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, continuing to stare down at the duo on the ground with an expression of disbelief that mirrored either person beside him, "I'm not hallucinating, right? We really just saw Rock get into a duel."

"You're not crazy, Benny-boy." A smile spread across the former navy man's face at Benny's semi-hysterical tone.

"That's right, Benny." Eda spoke up, popping her bubble gum. Though Dutch had apparently taken this newest action from his employee in stride, the nun from the Rip-off church appeared to be the most nonchalant about it. On the inside, however, she was just as amazed as all of them. "Rock may be a pacifist, but he's got something most people in this city don't. Even the pope himself would take up a weapon and fight like Rambo if his life was threatened and he had a reason to keep on living."

"It looks like our friend is showing himself." Dutch said, calling attention back to what was happening on the ground. Both Revy and Rock were watching the entrance of the warehouse intently as a lone man emerged from the shadows. He was at least a hundred and fifty yards away, but they both knew without a doubt that this was definitely the man that they had encountered on the boat a few days ago. Revy kept both of her guns ready, but made no move to brandish them at the man.

"Well, well, well…" He spoke calmly as he approached, using a cordial tone that only annoyed Revy even more. "It's good to see you again. That was quite a show you put on." He turned his head to Rock with an expression of surprised amusement on his face, "Both of you." For all of Shinji's charisma, Rock could almost forget that he was standing in front of a highly dangerous man who wanted him dead. Why Shinji was standing there, attempting to carry out a pleasant conversation with the two puzzled the businessman. Still, he couldn't help but smile sheepishly and rub the back of his head at being complimented. "Please feel free to keep the sword as a souvenir, won't you?" It was yet another indication that the Yakuza boss didn't intend for them to die tonight. While Rock was mulling things over, Revy was somewhat less patient.

"Get to the point." Revy growled, leveling both guns at Shinji, causing him to smile rather devilishly at her display, drawing the gun from his coat and pointing it directly at Rock. "Do you really think that's in your best interest, Revy…or is it Rebecca."

Her eyes flew open with surprise and rage. She knew damn well that she hadn't been addressed by her full name in his presence. The possibilities of who he could be involved with that would know that information did nothing to inspire confidence. There was absolutely nothing that she hated more than having her hands tied, and it seemed for a fleeting moment that he had the upper hand. She could've gotten shots off, but Rock would've paid for it in blood with a bullet right between that "deer in the headlights" expression that he was currently sporting. Then it occurred to Revy; they had a trump card.

"No," She spoke darkly, "I don't think _that's_ in your best interest." Her empty hazel eyes traveled down the length of his left arm to the gun that he held in his hand before she finished her thought.

"You see, we didn't trust you, so we brought back up." Her head flicked over her left shoulder and Shinji's eyes followed the movement, travelling up the freight until he spotted a glimpse of Dutch's green flak jacket. He looked closer to see what appeared to be a blonde woman in a rather revealing outfit pointing a minigun at him, as well as a blonde man in a Hawaiian shirt, with a rocket launcher cradled against his arm. This one was different from the other two on either side of him. Even at this distance, the Yakuza head could see that that he was not a fighter like the other two.

Shinji simply shrugged, "Actually, it was expected. Only a fool would've followed the instructions I left for you." His gaze turned more menacing and his voice cocky as he continued to speak, "That's why I've made my own _arrangements_." He waved left hand toward the row of freight containers to Rock and Revy's right. Rock had seen the men earlier, but had failed to get Revy's attention.

On that row of freight, there were five men, each with their own weapons. The first two had Remington sniper rifles aimed down at the two partners on the ground, while the other two had Browning Automatic Rifles aimed across the way at Dutch, Benny, and Eda. Dutch and Eda had both noticed and already had their respective weapons aimed right back.

Satisfied for the moment that he had, at least partially, secured the upper hand, Shinji decided to go ahead with what he had been about to say when Revy rudely interrupted him.

"Now, allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Shinji Matsuzaki; head of the Matsuzaki yakuza and descendent of the ancient Hojo samurai."

Revy rolled her eyes, already getting bored with this conversation. She knew that he wasn't to be taken lightly—that much had been proven in these past few moments, but she found it difficult not to with a speech like that. "Hey, why don't you skip to the part where we give a shit?"

"Very well, I've brought you here tonight to test you."

"Test us?" Rock's brow furrowed and he began to think about the possible reasons this man might have for keeping them alive like this. He didn't have to wait long for the answer.

"Yes. These men that you've just fought," he waved his arms at the many dead bodies that littered their area of the freight yard, "are my worst squad. But, each of these swordsmen you see here could've made my brother break a sweat in a duel." As he said this, he stepped over and tapped one of the dead bodies with his foot. "It may have been by sheer luck that you managed to keep up with my man as long as you did," Shinji addressed Rock once more, "But, still, that is a truly impressive accomplishment."

"That's all interesting, Mr. Matsuzaki, but it doesn't really explain why you were testing us."

Shinji just chuckled, keeping his gun pointed at Rock and throwing a fleeting dark smile in Revy's direction. "I chose to test you simply because I wanted to know if my brother's death was worth avenging. After seeing you fight, however, it has occurred to me that you can be used to my advantage in the yakuza's impending war with Hotel Moscow and the 14K.

Revy scoffed, "And what if we have a problem with that? Stabbing those two in the back would be about as bad as stepping on a fuckin' land mine"

"Oh, I never said anything about you betraying them; quite the opposite, in fact."

As they continued their face off with the man, Revy's glare intensified while a look of deep curiosity passed over Rock's facial features. What did Shinji stand to gain from intentionally having them confront his men; especially in light of the fact that he wanted to kill them himself. Bearing Eda's words from the previous evening in mind, the businessman knew that having them go up against his forces suited Shinji's purpose, somehow.

"And as for you having a problem with this arrangement, well, you hardly have a choice. If you choose to accept these terms and walk away tonight, you may not even be aware that I'm using you at all. If you don't agree, well, let's just say that my snipers will make sure that you won't have to suffer through witnessing me putting a bullet between your friend's eyes." He adjusted the lapsed aim of his stainless steel firearm so that it was aimed directly at Rock's face instead of just in his general direction.

The fiery gunwoman growled internally in frustration and pent up rage. Her cutlasses were calling to her, begging her to pull the trigger; to hell and back with the consequences! Alas, she knew she would only be walking straight to her own cold, worm and insect infested, grave, and she'd be dragging all of her buddies with her.

With one final huff, Revy conceded, spinning her guns back into their holsters. "Fine; whatever."

Shinji gave a satisfied smile and placed his own gun back into its home underneath his coat, prompting his snipers and the rest of Lagoon Company to lower each of their weapons, as well. With that, it seemed that there was nothing left to say. With one final bow, Shinji smiled cordially at the pair, and even gave a slight nod of acknowledgment towards Dutch.

"Well, it would seem that this evening has run its course. You're all free to leave, and please, " His eyes locked with Rock's one final time, "keep the sword. I insist."

Rock politely gave in to the Japanese gangster's request, stooping over to lift up the graceful weapon. It was only then that he allowed his eyes to scan over the intricate details of the ancient sword. The hilt was adorned with a single golden dragon that wrapped itself around the handle with the tail pointing towards the blunt end, and the dragon's open mouth guiding the eyes toward the blade. From there, the polished steel appeared to have a series of loose spiral like shapes that reminded Rock of the fluid motion of smoke stemming from a cigarette. Without a word, the salaryman slipped the deadly piece of sharp, polished steel into his belt and turned to his irate partner.

To her credit, she was doing well to remain calm since they both knew what they were dealing with, but Rock knew better. He could sense her suppressed anger boiling beneath the surface….boy, was it gonna be a long ride back to the office. With that final thought, the meeting was adjourned without another word, and each person present was given their own bit of information to dwell on. The highlight that everyone seemed to be struggling to come to terms with was the fact that Roanapur's only pacifist had willfully picked up a weapon, yet underneath that, a certain nun knew that she couldn't continue this precarious balance between the "light" of the CIA and the "dark" of Roanapur much longer.

Eda had been given her orders when her bosses had learned of Shinji's presence in the city. Reconnaissance on behalf of Langley was nothing new to her. What was knew was that she had slipped for the first time. The agency didn't give a shit about the well-being of the Lagoon company. Her orders when she'd been given her assignment had been to play the part of a corrupt nun from the Rip-Off church and continue to feed them information, and that she had done well. Her orders for the evening had been to observe Shinji and his men and collect information on him. Apparently, various organizations throughout the world were in a race to capture him first and her bosses wanted to wait until the opportune moment to kill or capture him. It was there that she had made the slip, small though it might've been. She could chalk it up to playing the part of the vice ridden nun all she wanted, but she had slipped. She was never supposed to actually take a shot at any of Shinji's men, but still she had protected Rock, and she knew it had nothing at all to do with her job and everything to do with her friendship towards him and the rest of the Lagoon Company.

Okay, I just want to say that I'm sorry it's been so long. I haven't been able to get much done because my old computer crapped out and I just recently got a new one. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	10. Uneasy

Again, I apologize for cutting that last chapter short. I intended for it to be quite a bit longer, but alas, my old computer had other plans and I lost a lot of time not being able to work on it. Anyway, the reason that I'm playing the Eda/Rock dynamic the way that I am is because pre-Roberta arc, he really hasn't had enough exposure to Eda to be able to pinpoint why she's not what she seems. I don't dispute at all that he knows something, in fact, I believe Rock knew something long before the Baile de la Muerta arc, but again, before that time he had no reason to cry CIA. In this story, however, you'll see the gears begin to turn, and you've already seen Eda have some slight difficulty protecting her secret from him. Anyway, I'm done with my rambling, and I promise you, I've got a twist planned that you won't see coming! Please R & R!

Ch. 10:

The Lagoon Company had sat in silence for the duration of the car ride back to the Rip-Off church. With the image of their newest member handling a sword still fresh in their minds, none of them could seem to find their tongues to strike up any kind of conversation. From his place in the back seat between Revy and Eda, Rock could almost literally feel that each of the other occupants of the car was thinking about him. He fidgeted nervously at the knowledge while the lights of the city flew by.

A few minutes later, after the nun was ensconced behind the large double doors of the Rip-Off church, it was Dutch who addressed the elephant. As casually as ever, he pulled out a smoke and lit it before speaking to his employee.

"Rock…I've seen a lot of shit from you since you joined us, but pardon my French when I ask: what the fuck was that?"

The business man had been so caught up in his own reflections on the evening that he barely understood the question he'd been asked. "What was what?" He followed Dutch's line of sight down to the sword on his belt and understood quickly, but not before his partner got a jibe in.

"The sword, dumbass; the sword. Where'd you fuckin' learn to do that?"

"Oh…right, that." His hand met the back of his head in a sheepish gesture. "My father insisted that my brother and I be taught Kendo when we were school boys." As this new information was processed, both Dutch and Benny's jaws dropped while Revy grew incensed, grabbing her partner by the collar and pulling him so that they were nose to nose.

"You mean to tell me that while I was getting fileted by that Jumbo freak, you knew how to use a sword the entire goddamn time? We could've fuckin' used that, ya know!"

Rock merely huffed, crossing his arms across his chest indignantly, "Well, of course I knew. You don't just learn how to use a sword over night! Besides," His tone had adopted a lecturing quality at this point, "it wouldn't have mattered because my skills are rusty."

Revy grunted and tossed him away, mockingly commenting under her breath, "Yeah, about as rusty as an old anchor stuck up a hooker's cunt. Even Chinglish could kick your scrawny little ass, partner."

From the front passenger seat of the GTO, the boss chuckled.

"Alright, you two that's enough. You can settle your differences at the Flag."

With the friendly argument dispelled for the moment, the car forged on through darkness towards the Lagoon Company docks. They had to make a quick pit stop to drop off their weapon supplies before they went off to indulge in a night of drinking; lest one of the many street rats decided to rummage through their vehicle while they were occupied.

Once the gang had reached the bar's main door, Revy wasted no time in pulling Rock off to their usual stools at the bar. Dutch and Benny noted that she seemed in rather high spirits despite their close call at the docks less than an hour ago. No doubt it was because he had had one of his rare fits of charity toward his employees and had promised to pay for the enormous bar tab that would surely be longer than Revy's rap sheet if it were to be printed on a receipt.

"Hey Bao," Revy beckoned jovially to the sour faced bar owner, "Bring us all the Bacardi ya got!" At her request, he simply nodded and moved over toward his rum shelf as Benny and Dutch took their respective seats along side the gunslinger and businessman. Meanwhile, the patrons who had heard Revy's order looked over with piqued interest in the direction of the bar. The demand for all of Bao's Bacardi usually preceded drinking contests of legendary proportions between the Lagoon Company's odd couple, and many a baht had been won and lost on who would hold out the longest.

As Bao returned with the requested bottles and the first round was poured, the sound of wood scraping against wood could be heard as patrons at the tables shifted in their seats or stood for a better view.

"Hey, Rock." Revy casually twirled her tumbler as she spoke, leaning a little bit closer to her partner. "What do you say to a little wager?" It was not unusual for the pair to place bets on their contests themselves. Rock's eyes lit up at the prospect of winning a bet in addition to out drinking his partner. "What did you have in mind, Revy?"

Never in his wildest dreams would Rock have expected what happened next from the savage gunslinger. She leaned in close to him; so close, in fact, that her lips grazed his ear, and then she spoke. Neither Dutch nor Benny knew what Revy had said to make Rock's face flush so red nor his body to go so rigid, but he was positive that if they had heard her they would've dropped dead.

Revy "Two-Hands" had actually just promised him, Rokuro "Rock" Okajima; Black Lagoon's resident office boy, sex if he managed to beat her in this contest. There was no way he could write off what just happened. She was stone-cold sober, and she had "that" look in her eyes. She was actually sincere about it. Rock now had another reason to be excited about this contest. Gentleman that he was, he knew he didn't have the self-control to turn Revy down if indeed she intended to honor her bet. Sure, he'd be upset if she only wanted a quick fuck, yet he doubted she would do that to _him—_or Dutch, or Benny for that matter. The Company was the only family she had; the only family any of them had left. Rock found it unlikely that she'd jeopardize their friendship for a meaningless romp in the sack knowing that he would read much more than that into the significance of the act.

He was getting ahead of himself. Shaking the thoughts away, Rock picked up his glass and decided they'd cross that bridge when—and if—they got to it. With a wry smile, the businessman signaled the start of their face off by downing his glass.

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><p>It was early morning in Roanapur; that small window of time when the sun's rays blasted through the blinds and curtains meant to shield them, yet they lacked the smoldering South China heat of the rest of the day. Somewhere across town near the docks, a certain Japanese man began to rouse slowly from a deep slumber.<p>

Rock looked around his room in a bleary state, finding that he was still a bit tipsy from the night's festivities. He didn't remember much about the previous evening after their showdown at the docks, but he vaguely remembered the beginnings of a heated drinking contest with his partner. Then, like a bolt of lightning, realization dawned as he remembered the bet.

This was certainly _not_ his bedroom.

An ominous feeling began to set in as he took in the bullet holes that adorned the walls, the pizza boxes and beer bottles littering every surface, and the gun rack sitting adjacent to the bed, followed by an acute awareness of the weight of a sleeping gunslinger against his chest.

How could this be? What the hell happened? How the hell am I gonna get out of here?

The panicked thoughts raced through the white collar's mind until he looked down and realized that both of them were still fully clothed and a sense of relief momentarily flooded his being. It was short lived; however, as Rock's hazy memory reminded him that he had only lost by a narrow margin and erotic visions of foreplay flashed before his mind. He was unable to discern whether or not these were actual memories, or mere fantasies that his mind had created in response to the possibility that they had done those things last night.

'Oh well,' He thought, as the tensed muscles in his torso relaxed, 'I guess I'll know when she wakes up.'

With his worries momentarily quelled, Rock gently removed himself from the grip of the sleeping sharpshooter and set off back to his own room to shower, wincing as his sudden movement from the bed made him aware of his acute hangover.

Almost as soon as the white collar was out of the room, his partner began to stir from her deep slumber—it was as if her body had subconsciously sensed his absence and sent signals that something was amiss.

"Fuck…" Revy let out a low moan of complaint, "Why the hell am I up this early?" The gunslinger gripped her disheveled head of hair as a massive headache ripped through her brain when she sat up; memories of the previous evening at the bar reminded her how the headache was earned.

"Rock?" She grunted, absently looking around the room as she picked up her cutlasses from next to the bed and began to prepare them for the day ahead. She vaguely remembered that they had come back to her room for more drinks.

As Revy laid out a field-stripped cutlass on the bed, a small, fresh, amorphous stain on the sheet caught her attention. Revy's eyes widened as she realized just what it looked like and she was shocked at first, then panicked, then pissed, then back to panicked, before finally settling somewhere between the two.

Sure, she had promised Rock sex if he won their little contest, but she was frightened at the notion that she might've drunkenly thrown herself at Rock, which in turn made her embarrassed to think that her true feelings may have been revealed in such a way. It also angered her to think that Rock would have it in him to take advantage of her in a drunken state…even if he was himself inebriated.

When she had made that bet, she had intended to follow through with it when they were both sober.

For many moments, the frazzled woman tried in vain to retrieve a memory—any memory—of the evening from the abyss of her hangover. Try as she might, however, the last thing Revy could remember was staggering into her small apartment with Rock in tow.

"Ah, fuck it." Revy sighed, resigning herself to continuing her cleaning and deciding not to bring this up until she could actually remember anything. Moments later, she forcefully placed the gun on the bed and fell back against the hardened mattress, letting out a frustrated scream as she jammed a pillow to her face.

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><p>"Kapitan. Mr. Chang." Sergeant Boris' gruff voice greeted the pair as he walked into the main office of the Bougainvillea Trading Co. and returned to his mistress' side. After her meeting with the Lagoon Company, Balalaika had decided to send him out for a little reconnaissance.<p>

"Ah, Comrade Sergeant." Her tone was as cool as ever as she clipped the end of a Cuban cigar and lit it with a practiced efficiency. "I trust you were able to gather at least a small bit of intelligence at the freight yard."

"Ma'am." Boris affirmed. "Mr. Matsuzaki was careful to keep his intentions vague, but it seems that he wishes to 'use' the Lagoon Company. I'm not sure what that means.

From his place on the couch with legs propped up on the table and a cigarette dangling in his mouth, the Triad Boss was the first to answer as he angled his chin toward the ceiling.

"Use them as leverage against us, maybe? It's not exactly a big secret that Lagoon is quite valuable."

"Da," Balalaika agreed, "Dutch and his crew would be out of business without the organized crime in Roanapur, but each and every syndicate in the city would be crippled without them, as well."

"So, what do you propose we do about that?" Chang took a long drag of his cigarette, allowing the smoke to billow out of his mouth and surround his head like a cloud.

It was Boris who took the opportunity to speak first. It was rare that the man was anything but subservient, but when he was, it was for damn good reason. The knowledge of that fact ensured his Kapitan's undivided attention in every instance.

"I believe it would be a wise course of action to simply monitor the situation for the time being."

In response to the twin expressions of piqued interest, Boris explained about the soldiers he'd seen in action and Shinji's claim that they were his worst unit. Not one detail of the meeting was left untouched.

"Well, I'll be…" Chang spoke up, finally managing to find his voice after Boris had delivered the revelation about Rock. "Even Rock's got secrets, who knew?" His forced attempt at a joke fell flat and he was once again left to gawk at the knowledge that Roanapur's favorite pacifist knew how to handle a sword.

"Yes," Balalaika chuckled, visibly taken aback as she choked lightly on smoke from her cigar. "Although…" she trailed under her breath, remembering the two times that he had dared to stand up to her. She had noted something distinct in them; granted, his eyes had always held a distinct spark that was lacking in the city of the damned. No, she had noticed something else…something fierce. Something akin to the spark she'd seen on many a face back in Afghanistan just before a bullet snuffed the spark away.

It was diminished, but there was definitely the spark of a warrior within Rokuro Okajima; a warrior who would fight with all he had for his cause until the bloody, bitter end, if necessary.

"I agree, Comrade Sergeant," Balaika snapped out of her thoughts and moved the conversation back on the proper track, taking into consideration the warnings they had all heard regarding Shinji Matsuzaki.

"It may be in our best interest to simply stay vigilant for the time being."

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><p>Well, there it is, chapter 10! Things are getting more tense! The next chapter will return to more action, along with more plotting, more of everything really. Stay tuned! Please R &amp; R!<p> 


	11. The Enemy of My Enemy

Hello again guys, we got chapter eleven coming up! I hope you've enjoyed it thus far and that you will continue to do so. Anyway, I own no rights and make no profit. Also, I'd like to apologize for neglecting this story again. I've been too busy for anything more than oneshots over the past few months.

**To Meech: Again, all valid points in regards to Revy/Rock. Your cited points are precisely the reason that I wrote the last chapter the way that I did. I had toyed with developing their relationship and having something come of it towards the end, but then that would be a little too functional for Black Lagoon and for Revy. She is not practiced in relationships and is unaccustomed to any emotion besides anger. The way I see it, her offer was a feeble attempt at expressing her feelings. And again, you are right, naturally things will get awkward.**

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><p>Ch. 11: Enemy of my enemy…<p>

It was just at four in the afternoon in the city of Roanapur and the streets were lively as always. In spite of the tension between Hotel Moscow, the Triad, and the encroaching yakuza, businesses had suffered very little as the city's inhabitants did their best to go about business as usual.

One business that had suffered a bit was the Church of Violence.

At the present moment, the old bells of the cathedral could be heard ringing over the hillside above the main city to signify the new hour. Out in Yolanda's garden, Eda paid no mind to the noise as she continued her chore of pulling weeds and sowing new seeds; pausing once in a while to wipe the sweat from her damp forehead.

The moments when the nun actually obeyed one of the more mundane orders given to her by the mother superior were few and far between, but they almost always coincided with a drastic shift towards pensive reflection on the young woman's part. Today was no exception. It had been two weeks since the incident at the loading docks and as the inevitable gang war drew closer and closer, Eda was feeling more and more conflicted with her place in this world.

She still remembered the day she had decided that law enforcement was her future; it was the same day that the innocence of her childhood was shattered. Eda had been all of ten years old at the time when she went on a weekend trip to the Piggly Wiggly with her mother and two year old sister. She had tried hard over the years and still, twenty five years after the fact, she could recall nothing about the incident but waking up in the hospital with a bandaged head and being told by her father that a bomb had killed them both. She remembers the intense feeling of grief at the loss followed by a burning rage that she had never known herself capable of feeling. That rage had served as her motivation through countless hours of grueling workouts that left her passed out in the floor and endless boring lectures in school. She told herself that if she could get into law enforcement, she would be in a position to avenge them.

Things had changed though.

Eda had climbed her way up the ranks at Langley and brought down several terrorists and career criminals, yet with each assignment it felt as if she was stepping further away from the goal she'd set out to fulfill…like she was no more than a dog on the government's leash. That, and the fact that each assignment that required her to immerse herself in the evils of this world left her feeling as though she had left a piece of her humanity behind.

She chuckled bitterly to herself at the thought. It seemed as though she had been losing pieces of herself to her job long before she set foot in Roanapur.

The thought of Roanapur and the way that everyone in the city openly embraced every sin imaginable would make most turn tail and run, but by some fucked up twist of fate, the nun considered this place more a home to her now than anywhere in the states. The agency had warned her not to become involved with the people she dealt with while undercover, and it was a task she had done well in the past, but Roanapur had sucked her in. When she really stopped to think about it, Yolanda had become the closest thing to a mother that she had known since she was ten years old. Then, there was Revy. They fought and they bitched at each other, but the agent had grown to genuinely care about the short-tempered gunslinger along with the rest of Lagoon Company.

Hell, she didn't even have to act anymore when she donned the purple shades and the nun's habit. In fact, the fake nun could no longer distinguish between her "real" personality and the one that she had adopted several years ago upon setting foot in the city of the damned.

And that final thought was enough to make the decision that she had been struggling with for a while now.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The elderly woman's voice reached Eda's ears and she smiled as her train of thought was derailed. This was their game. Each time the agent found herself deep in thought, the old woman would be quick to act on her role as confidante and ex-officio mother superior.

Setting the gardening tools aside for a moment, the blonde turned to face the one-eyed nun. "Just making a decision, Sister."

"Oh?" Both the tone of voice and the look on Yolanda's face betrayed a sort of omniscience on this matter; as if she knew exactly what was already on the younger woman's mind without even having to ask. In a sense, she did.

In response to the question and knowing gaze Eda simply nodded leaving Yolanda to question her again as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.

"Any word from the agency?"

"Actually, yes," Eda mirrored the older nuns actions as she retrieved her own pack of smokes from her habit. "I've been told to keep an eye on the situation, but let it take its course."

Yolanda exhaled a long stream of smoke off her cigarette. "Well, that's a rather surprising move of inaction given the danger that this Shinji character poses."

Eda smirked, taking a drag of her own cigarette, allowing the soothing burn to permeate her lungs. "Yes well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend…at least, that's the stance the agency is taking. He hasn't actually done anything that would warrant drastic measures from Uncle Sam yet, so they figure Hotel Moscow and the Triads can take him out for the rest of the world. And if they fail, well, that's just two less problems for Interpol to worry about."

"I see, well at any rate, it's not really the church's problem" Yolanda smiled as both women turned to head back into the chapel, "On the other hand, it will be nice to get this war over with so that we can continue our regular operations in peace without the interference of Chang and Balalaika."

"Yeah, no shit!" Eda scoffed, snuffing out her cigarette in an ashtray that sat on the altar. "All those customers we keep having to turn away are putting a dent in my booze money."

The mother superior briefly glowered at the agent's word choice, yet chose not to address the indiscretion this time in favor of making an observation. "My my, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were becoming a regular citizen of this city." The comment was made in jest, and yet that all-knowing look had returned. Perhaps, Eda mused, Yolanda had been able to see the influence of Roanapur growing within her all this time.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot." The nun flashed a half-smile to the older nun as she stood in the entrance to the hallway leading to their cells. "Once this shit cools down, you're gonna have to get used to running this place without me again for a few days. I've got some business in the states."

"You do realize the ramifications of your choice…"

"Of course," the blonde continued to smirk as if she had an entire game of chess worked out in her mind, "That's why this is my only option; anything else will work itself out" She turned on her heel and began stalking down the corridor towards her room, tossing one final comment over her shoulder.

"At any rate, this'll be my last assignment."

Unnoticed by either of them, the church's resident priest in training stepped out from the shadows in the opposite side of the chapel and watched the nun's retreating back with a worried expression. He then pulled out his cell phone and withdrew from the sanctuary to make his call away from the sharp eye of Yolanda.

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><p>Elsewhere in town, two figures stood within the decrepit old surroundings of a small shack. The wood rotted away in many places and walls and floor were all thick with the grime of the city. In short, it was a metaphor for the exhaustion each of the two felt as they continued to trade blow after blow with their blades.<p>

Shortly after the meeting with Shinji, Rock had approached Shenhua about helping him to retrain. The Taiwanese assassin had happily accepted, but a fortnight later found the Japanese ex-businessman questioning his decision. As he stood in the middle of that dingy old room, lungs burning and sweat soaking his white collar shirt while he struggled to keep a firm grasp on his sword, Rock struggled to recall a time when he had ever been through such rigorous training. The woman before him could be deceptively sweet. He supposed, however, that that was part of what made her so deadly.

After a brief standoff, Shenhua bolted at him again wielding both kukri knives with deadly precision. Rock had learned fairly early on in their two weeks of training that the assassin preferred a defensive approach, but she also could turn on a dime and unleash a flurry of lightning quick assaults capable of leaving a trail of corpses in her wake should any of her enemies get lax in their vigilance. He struggled against the twin kukri blades, parrying strike after strike as she twirled, ducked, and leapt at him; anything to throw him off his game. Still, he managed to keep up somehow, countering with delicate, sweeping side blows and overhead slices until finally he managed to toss her back.

Rock briefly savored the moment as he looked on at Shenhua's sprawled form on the floor a few feet away. But suddenly, that image, and the image of Yukio's corpse merged in his mind and he heard her voice speak to him.

'_Right now, you're in the twilight.' _The thoughts and voices began to swirl in his head like a maelstrom in the middle of the ocean, _'You've never had to choose!' _They pounded the inside of his brain mercilessly like rough waves capsizing and swallowing a vessel lost at sea.

'_Of course I'm gonna fight for them!'_

Rock had become totally enveloped by the memory of that night at the bowling alley and of the duel at the docks in Japan. He hadn't even noticed Shenhua get to her feet as he stared down at the intricately designed dragon on the hilt of his sword with shock in his eyes. Suddenly, he felt himself choking as his windpipe constricted beneath the force of a chord wrapping itself around his neck and he grasped at it feverishly, looking up at the assassin with startled eyes.

"Ay yah! That no good. You getting too unfocused, dumbass." She chided lightly as she release the tension in the kukri rope and regarded his gasping figure with an amused gaze.

"What am I becoming?" He continued to stare down at the sharp steel clutched in his hands, speaking more to himself than to his mentor, almost seeming to forget her presence once again now that he was no longer choking.

With a supremely puzzled expression written on her Taiwanese features, the beautiful assassin kneeled across from him. "Huh? What you mean?"

The words were enough to pull the white collar from his minor state of detachment and he brought his eyes to meet hers. "It's just…" He didn't quite know exactly how to state his concern and silence settled back over them for a brief moment before he spoke up again. "I've been in Roanapur for a year and a half now. I've tried to stay as far away from the carnage as possible, but now…" Again he struggled to find the right words and Shenhua simply waited patiently for him to continue. "Now here I am, willfully taking up a sword. I still don't want to hurt anyone, but I know that I'd be willing to kill if I had to. It scares me."

He was surprised to hear a slight chuckle from the Asian woman across from him and he regarded her with raised brows as she spoke to him. "Silly dumbass. You not changed; still the same person." She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and yet the businessman wanted to argue with her.

"But…" He could _feel _the darkness growing inside of him as much as he wanted to ignore it, and he dreaded when the day might come when he would lose his place in the twilight. The assassin wasn't finished though.

"You not like the rest of us." There was a darkness in her pleasant tone as she gently caressed one of her blades with a twisted smirk on her face, as if emphasizing her statement. "If you kill, it because you protecting friends. This very noble."

Rock simply stared at the knife-wielder with mild surprise at the fact that such words would come out of someone who killed so casually. It was true that criminals had their own code of honor, but the aspect of killing was an area where no one seemed to give a flying shit about the word. He wasn't sure if she was genuine or simply humoring him, but as he thought about it, her words made sense and he allowed his mind to be soothed. He smiled as he stood up and slipped the sword into its home at his belt.

"Thank you, Shenhua."

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><p>And that's 11! I know, not much going on here, but next chapter will see the return of Balalaika, Chang and more bloodshed!<p> 


	12. Is My Friend

Hey guys! Hello and welcome to another installment of Roanapur Shakedown. This chapter's gonna see the start of some more action! Anyway, please R&R!

To Meech: You are very right. Eda probably isn't her name, in this story or in the manga/anime itself, but I think I'll leave a real name up to imagination for now.

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><p>Ch. 12: …Is My Friend<p>

A thin cloud of smoke billowed around the Russian mafia queen like a veil as she expelled the cigar smoke from her lungs. It was well after dark and she was still seated behind her desk filling out paperwork for the Bougainvillea trading company. The documents for her business front were the farthest thing from her mind, however, as she sat in restlessness; pondering over recent events.

Chang's presence had been expected an hour ago, and still she was alone with herself to mull over the situation with the Japanese yakuza head. Hotel Moscow had been fortunate enough to remain unharmed as both sides surveyed each other for weakness in the intervening days since the dock incident. Chang's 4K, on the other hand, had endured multiple attacks as the Yakuza slowly began to encroach on the triad's turf.

This Shinji was really becoming quite bothersome. The problem was that Rock was right. This was not a foe that she or Chang could just wage a normal war against…not without help, anyway.

That was how they came to be locked in their little stalemate while the citizens of the city continued to grow more uneasy at the prospect of a full scale war; not that she cared about them. Her only loyalty was to her men and to power.

It was just after twenty-two hours when the door of her office finally creaked open and Boris poked his head in with his usual subservient greeting of "Kapitan" followed by the Triad boss. Per Balalaika's previous request, Boris left the two to discuss business in private.

"You're late." She noted, not even bothering to veil her pent up irritation at various matters as Chang made himself at home on her sofa. His response was simply to flash her his usual carefree smile and light himself a cigarette. "Yeah, sorry about that. Had to lose my tail."

Balalaika nodded in understanding as she sat across from him. The Yakuza had begun spying on both factions of late. "Just another nuisance to deal with. First this shit head comes to town, then he blows twelve of my men to hell with a bomb, and now I'm _forced_ to endure a staring contest with the man. It's just shameful." She took a long drag of her cigar to calm herself and unclenched her fist as Chang harrumphed in response. "You say that like you're the only one gettin' fucked here, Balalaika. Don't forget…my place was bombed too, ya know. On top of that, those yakuza samurai fuckers keep butchering my collecters on their routes."

The burned woman's brow twitched with impatience as Chang spoke and by the time he was finished, she had reached her limit. "So, what do you suggest we do?" She snapped, "It's just this bastard I've got to deal with, oh no. As if that weren't enough, now I'm being hounded by the bosses in Moscow to go deal with the Albanians waging war against the Red Mafia in New York."

She forced the Triad boss back into the cushions as she loomed over him and invaded his personal space a little more with each word until he was buried in the plush cushions smiling up at her rather awkwardly with the cigarette askew in his mouth.

"Albanians, you say?" Chang had been going to all his contacts to dig up any information on Shinji that could be of help and something about Albania seemed to ring a bell. He wracked his brain hard for the details.

"Yes." Balalaika went back to her seat, crossing one long, slender leg over the other and regarding him curiously. "Do you know something of this?"

Chang took a deep drag of nicotine from the cancer stick between his fingers, "Maybe not about your particular issue, but I do know that the Albanians in question have a keen dislike for one Shinji Matsuzaki."

"Oh?" Balalaika perked up in interest.

"Apparently, when Shinji's Yakuza spread its reach to eastern Europe a few years ago they were able to forge a co-existence with the local gangs. However, the Albanians weren't quite as welcoming. The poor bastards resisted so fiercely that most of their number was butchered in a month long war. The rest eventually fled to The Big Apple to make a name for themselves."

The Russian leaned forward to snub out her cigar, mulling over this new information in her mind. "So, like cockroaches, the insects fled into the darkness to regroup and multiply their numbers."

"Exactly." A familiar Cheshire grin spread across Chang's face as if they had already won the war. "And who do you think they hate more: the gang they're fighting for territory, or the gang that forced them out of their home country?"

Balalaika was quick to catch his point and her own maniacal grin spread slowly across her face at the thought of their combined forces finally laying waste to the pest.

"Excellent."

"So," Chang leaned forward to crush his cigarette into the ashtray, and then rested his chin on his laced fingers. ", how do you wanna handle this?" It was obvious to the both of them that a trip to the states was in the near future for Balalaika, but they both knew that leaving the city at a time like this could have some serious consequences.

The Russian Mafioso rested both arms on the back of the couch and leaned back, looking to the ceiling in thought for a few moments. "The last time Hotel Moscow reduced its presence in Roanapur, it took weeks to restore order. We simply cannot afford that at such a delicate time."

Chang nodded along, agreeing with her words, then followed suit as Balalaika stood. Both of them hovered near the door of her office while she laid out her plan and brought their meeting to a close.

"Sergeant Borisov will take command of Hotel Moscow in my absence; I shall enlist the Lagoon Company to travel with me to New York. I've got a feeling the Yaponski's negotiation skills and Two-Hands' guns will prove very useful."

"So then that's settled." Chang smirked, pulling out his pack of smokes again before moving to open the door, "Goodnight to you, Miss Balalaika. Watch yourself."

"Same to you, baby." Balalaika grinned devilishly at his displeasure toward the nickname and shut the door behind him, turning back towards her desk to resume filling out the mountain of paper work.

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><p>It was just past midnight a couple nights later at the Yellow Flag, and two members of Lagoon Company were seated in their usual spots in front of the bar. The contrast in behavior of the two was enough to tell anyone who was familiar with the pair that something was amiss. While Revy was up to her usual heavy drinking antics, Rock was just on his second drink. He simply sat cautiously swirling the drink around in the confines of its glass and admiring his dangerously wild partner from not so far away. Enough time had passed that Rock had remembered exactly what had happened after their little bet, and he suspected Revy remembered too. Still, as innocuous as the happenings that night were, he couldn't bring himself to resume their normal competitive routine. Revy flat out refused to discuss the issue or much else with him in spite of the fact that all they did was sleep in the same bed.<p>

"Yo, Rock! The fuck you doin'!" Her vaguely slurred voice cut into his morose train of thought, "Hurry up and finish yer fuckin' drink! We're here to get wasted, right?" His new drinking habits grated on the fiery woman's nerves intensely…more so than his attempts to get her to talk about what had (or hadn't) happened between them.

Rock merely gave a small shake of his head in response, prompting more goading from his partner. "You're missin' out…" she drawled in a sing-song voice draping an arm over his shoulder and prodding him in the chest with the index finger of her right hand. "This could be the last good drink we have in a while, partner." Again, the businessman refused and shrugged her arm off of him.

"Suit yourself," Revy shrugged, getting ready to go right for the throat with a tactic that had never failed to entice her uptight partner when he wasn't exactly in a drinking mood. "I'll just finish this drink, then we'll go down to the nearest dress shop and pick you out a pretty little outfit." To her surprise and immense irritation, even that failed to make Rock budge an inch as he continued to toy with his rum.

"Grrr, what the fuck, Rock!" Revy growled, slamming her own drink down on the bar and turning to face him fully. She knew exactly what his problem was, but had been choosing to ignore it up until that point, because frankly, she didn't want to address the issue behind it either. Although, her inhibitions were lowered just enough, and her patience had run out to the point that a crack appeared yet again in her armor as she tore into Rock. "Are you really gonna get all fuckin' pansy-ass on me just because we fuckin' shared a bed!?"

In an instant, every head in the bar including Rock's was turned toward the gunwoman, though everyone present was smart enough to keep their mouth shut lest a bullet find a home between their eyes. Rock was just as stunned as the rest of them, staring at her like a fish flopping around on a dock. He could safely assume it was the alcohol, but this was the first time she'd openly made mention of what happened despite his attempts to discuss it. He still wanted desperately to talk about it too; to explain his feelings on the matter. He wanted to know where she stood after thinking that there had been sex between them, and after openly offering it to him. Alas, Rock knew that this was not the time. She was tipsy, they had an audience, and most importantly, she had already crawled back into her shell. So, in answer, he flashed her a smile then turned to Bao, whose mouth was slightly agape at Revy's words, "Bring us all the Bacardi you've got."

"Fuckin' A!" Revy cheered, her mood doing a complete 180 in a matter of just a couple seconds.

Once Bao returned with the rum, the atmosphere in the bar grew tense as the pair faced off with each other. It was a simple drinking match and yet they stared each other down as if they would be drawing guns on each other any second now…a laughable thought when it came to the white collar of the pair.

The Vietnamese barkeep poured them both a shot to start and stood between them like a referee between two prize fighters.

"Alright, folks, you know the rules: fifteen shots, last one standing wins. If either of you can't hold yer liquor, you lose fer that, too. Not to mention one o' you gets to clean that shit up."

There was quiet chatter in the bar as the other patrons watched intently in the moments before the start of the contest. Some were already making bets, and others just filled with excitement at what was about to go down. Drinking contests between Rock and Revy were legendary in this bar.

As the barkeep pulled out a cloth to throw into the air, the gunslinger's hands twitched in a manner reminiscent of a cowboy moments away from drawing his six-shooter. The bars patrons expected Ennio Morricone's theme from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly to start playing out of thin air any second now.

Finally, the ratty old cloth that once resembled something white in color floated down to the surface of the bar and the two were off! They started at an unusually slow pace, matching each other shot for shot for the first three or so, and then Revy began to speed up the pace, downing three shots of the burning liquid in rapid succession.

"Come…Come on." Revy slurred just after downing her twelfth shot, looking at Rock through bleary, bloodshot eyes, "Is that all…you fuckin' got?"

Rock was lagging a couple shots behind, but at this rate, he had the feeling that tonight was his lucky night. They both stood on wobbly legs, teetering on the edge of losing their balance and clutching on to the bar with their respective free hands. The businessman struggled to keep his arm straight as he reached for his shot and brought it to his lips in a defiant display before slamming it down and flashing his partner a cocky smile.

"I should…I should ask you the same question, Revy." He clutched on to the bar with both hands as the room began to move ever so slightly, watching while his partner reached for shot number thirteen. "Go ahead…drink another one." The businessman goaded. Normally, she would've been able to handle all fifteen before keeling over, but Rock suspected that the drinking she had done before they started had pushed her to her limit prematurely, and so he opted to stand back and watch while she struggled to bring the sloshing liquid to her lips.

Once Revy had finally managed to drink the thirteenth shot, the whole of the bar watched in anticipation to see what would happen next. Another brief staring contest ensued when the pair's eyes locked and they fixed each other with devilish smiles. Without breaking eye contact, the gunwoman reached a wobbly hand down on the next shot glass, but the match was decided in the next moment. In an instant, Revy's legs failed her and the ground came up to meet her with a hard thud and the sound of broken glass as the shot glass in her hand was shattered on the wood floor.

Rock and Bao leaned over to get a better look at her and realized that she was indeed unconscious. Triumphant yells and quiet grumbles of defeat permeated the bar as Bao lifted Rock's arm up in a declaration of his victory and the rest of the patrons began passing bills between each other.

Several minutes later, Rock was outside the apartment building that served as a home to each member of the Lagoon Company. Revy had been out like a light the entire time. He opened the passenger side of the GTO and reached his arms in under her legs and behind her back. It came as a surprise when one well-toned arm reached around his neck suddenly and pinned his face into her generous bosom.

'Shit, now what?' The businessman blushed furiously as his attempts to wriggle from her iron grip brought his face even closer to her. He was glad of the fact that the alcohol was keeping her well sedated. If she punched him for accidentally grazing her boob a couple weeks ago, he could only imagine what she might do to him for rubbing his face in her chest.

A few minutes of stumbling, awkward twisting, and maneuvering later, Rock had arrived at Revy's apartment. Thankfully, he was spared having to grope her any further for a pair of keys by the fact that Revy didn't lock her door. She never bothered because she figured she could take care of herself, most people in the city knew not to pull that shit on her, and if she got robbed while she was out she'd just go looking for the asshole and teach him a lesson he'd never forget for the remainder of his very short life.

Rock gently placed his partner onto her mattress and brought the thin sheet up to her chest before turning to leave. He was stopped in his tracks halfway to the door as a soft mumble met his ear. He turned towards the bed and listened closer, attempting to make sense of the noise in his alcohol addled mind.

"…Rock…" The soft murmur fell upon his ears again even as he read it from the woman's lips. Involuntarily, his pulse quickened and his palms began to sweat at the sultry sound. She couldn't really be dreaming about him, could she? Staggering a bit closer to the bed, he took in her sleeping form, scrutinizing the way the moonlight streamed in through her broken blinds and made her look like the most peaceful creature his eyes had ever beheld. He waited for some confirmation that he had heard her right; some unguarded sign of her affection as he stood there in the darkness of her disheveled bedroom.

Eventually, he heaved a defeated sigh and turned back toward the door, resigning himself to finally getting the sleep he so desperately needed. Rock wrapped his hand around the door handle and pulled. Just as the door creaked open, he heard the sound again.

"Stay…" It was clear as day that time and Rock's eyes widened as he once again turned to face the sleeping woman to make sure she was still sleeping. Then again, as tender as her voice sounded, she had to be. He could never imagine that kind of tone coming from the gunslinger were she awake and in control of her faculties. Alas, he decided that it would be best not to grant her involuntary request, and so, he watched longingly as she rolled over to face the window before he retreated back into the hallway and toward his room.

* * *

><p>The next day, Lagoon Company had assembled at the Bougainvillea Trade Company where they were making a few last minute preparations for the trip to America. Due to Hotel Moscow's problem with Yakuza spies, it had been decided that Boris would drive the group to Don Mueang International Airport in Bangkok in an unmarked van.<p>

"Kapitan," Boris addressed, stepping up to the head of Hotel Moscow and saluting, "The final preparations have been made. Your tickets have been confirmed and the passports we got them have come through." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out four fake passports, putting them back in just as soon as he did so.

Balalaika pulled out a Cuban and clipped of the end. "Excellent, Sergeant. Right on schedule; we will depart shortly." She extracted a lighter from the pocket of her business suit and immersed the tip of the cigar in the small flame until it caught, taking a puff. The ever stoic Sergeant gave a small grunt of acknowledgement before speaking again, "Kapitan…you should know I don't like this."

The Russian woman chuckled grimly, releasing a ring of smoke into the air between them. "I don't like it either, but our hand has been forced. I'm afraid it's the best option we have at the moment." Her eyes got a far away look in them and a sense of déjà vu washed over her as her memories took her back to her war days.

"I seem to recall a similar situation that we faced in Afghanistan, don't you, Sergeant?" Boris nodded grimly. Indeed he remembered it well. It was the day they had each acquired their respective battle scars. The fighting was hellish and the sand was just as hot. Their platoon had been fending off an assault by the Mujahideen forces for hours. At some point during the fighting, Balalaika had set up a vantage point in the ruins of a building atop a cliff, but the rest of the platoon had been forced back in their attempt to join with her; effectively leaving her alone behind enemy lines.

At the time, one of their allies was also in the area. The moment Boris realized what had happened, he tried like a mad man to get them on radio, and when that failed, he circumvented the battlefield in a mad dash to get to that unit. The last thing he remembered before waking up in the infirmary was the glass of a jeep's window flying at his face as it exploded. He'd been surprised to see his Kapitan lying comatose in the bed across from his with horrid white bandages across most of her burned body; of course, the horrific sight of those stark white bandages was nothing compared to the horrendous injuries hidden beneath them. According to the medic, one of the enemy soldiers had managed to get close enough to toss a Molotov cocktail through a window of the building she was sniping from.

"Well Sergeant," The Kapitan spoke up as she snubbed out her cigar, her voice putting an end to their dreadful reminiscing, "We'd best move out."

With that, the six of them loaded into the inconspicuous black Mercedes-Benz Sprinter model van. Balalaika and Boris were, of course, seated in the front two seats, and the Lagoon Company made themselves comfortable in the back, content to sit quietly for the moment. It was still very early in the morning; not even the ass crack of dawn yet, and given that Revy and Rock had both been out drinking the previous night, Dutch was the only member of the crew showing some semblance of cognizance. Benny and Revy were never really the early bird types and Rock was understandably hungover. He wasn't suffering alone though, Revy, who was trying to catch some shut eye on the ride to the airport, could be heard muttering tired curses under her breath as the van sped over bumps in one of the various poorly maintained roads. Dutch snickered quietly at the sight of his two employees simultaneously grabbing their heads every time a horn blared.

Several minutes later, the van was completely out of the city and entering the Thai countryside. It was then that Balalaika spoke for the first time since leaving Hotel Moscow HQ. Her eyes flitted to the passenger side mirror as she gazed at two cars that Boris had been subtly trying to shake off for some time now.

"It seems that, despite our efforts, we've managed to pick up some pests." She addressed her second in command, but spoke loudly enough for everyone in the van to be included in the conversation. Revy's ears twitched and she immediately perked up. Balalaika caught sight of the action from her peripheral vision and a predatory smile spread across her scarred face as her lust for violence took over.

"I see you're eager for a fight, Two-Hands." She chuckled, hiding a smile behind her hand. The same expression of bloodlust that had adorned the Kapitan's face just a moment before began to show itself on the face of Lagoon Company's gun as the thrill of the impending action overpowered the headache that had been hammering away at her all morning. "Would you care to give our guests a proper greeting?"

"Sure thing, Sis." Revy spoke with a perky tone that was unnatural for someone about to send fellow human beings to the bowels of hell. With one swift kick, the doors to the back of the van were kicked open. It took but a split second for the gunslinger's practiced eye to pinpoint exactly which cars were tailing them. One burgundy colored Volvo and another green Yugo, each with a team of two men. If Revy had to guess, she'd say both cars were stolen, but that was unimportant.

"ALRIGHT!" In a flash, both cutlasses were drawn, cocked, and aimed at either car. "I hope you like lead for breakfast, mother fuckers!"

* * *

><p>Alright, I'm gonna end it there with a nice cliffhanger. I hope you've enjoyed it this far! It's been a blast to write so far! Be assured that next chapter will start off with a bang. Anyway, Please R &amp; R!<p> 


	13. Land of Liberty

Alright! Lock & Load, Chapter Thirteen's comin' at ya! The action's gonna be kicked up a notch starting with this chaper! Anyway, as always: read, enjoy, and review!

* * *

><p>Ch. 13: The Land of Liberty<p>

"ALRIGHT! I hope you like hope you like lead for breakfast, motherfuckers!"

Several cars had swerved to get away from the van at the sight of an intimidating woman busting through the rear doors. The Yugo and the Volvo kept to their positions; each of the occupants wearing similar teeth clenching grimaces upon their faces as they each grasped at their own firearms. All of this took place in the span of a couple seconds after Revy had appeared to them, and she didn't give a single one of them a chance to fully draw a weapon.

With a twitch of her finger, Revy released a hail of bullets onto the green Yugo directly behind the van. Each of the bullets impacted the hood in a straight line and caused the passenger to duck into cover to avoid the strafing shots while his partner swerved in an attempt to get out of her line of fire.

While Revy toyed with the Yugo, the occupants of the Volvo were afforded the time to draw on the gunslinger and Benny jumped slightly when bullets made impact with the van's rear quarters directly behind his back. Luckily, the body of the vehicle was reinforced. There was more gunfire exchanged with Boris taking evasive action and flooring the pedal while Revy worked with his actions to make sure that the enemy gunfire wouldn't breach the van's cabin.

She had to hand it to these guys, they were pretty good drivers, taking great care to evade her line of fire. However, it was only a matter of time until one of them screwed up. A shark like grin split her features amid the rain of semi-automatic gunfire as she spotted her opening. The driver of the blood red Volvo had made a careless error and momentarily drifted back into her sights; as it happened, right back in the direction of the Yugo. She chuckled fiendishly. One shot was all she would need. Revy squeezed the trigger of the Cutlass in her left hand and the Volvo driver's head erupted in a shower of gray matter and dark red gore as the bullet tore a hole through his forehead and out the back.

The passenger of the car was absolutely crippled in fear and shock at his partner's sudden death. Even as his car veered off course toward the Yugo, he continued to stare at the fatal wound with his mouth agape. Then, at the very last second before impact, the sight of the other car coming rapidly closer jarred him from his stupor. He leapt at the steering wheel and yanked it hard to right, causing the cars to scrape their sides roughly upon impact and a certain gunwoman to groan in frustration at her plan gone to shit.

She fired off a few more rounds at the Volvo while the only remaining occupant hustled to shift behind the wheel and used the gun in her right hand to fend off the occupants of the Yugo as they continued to take shots at her. After about four rounds, the gunwoman finally managed to pop a tire on the Volvo and the driver lost control. The car veered into a guard rail and flipped until it was sitting on another stretch of road where an oncoming truck promptly smacked into the upturned vehicle.

Revy wasted no time turning both of her guns on the remaining car with a cocky grin on her face, but when she pulled the triggers, there came an ominous clicking sound as both slides locked back into place. Her eyes went wide at the realization that she was completely exposed and defenseless.

"Shit!" She knew that to reach out to shut the rear doors would only leave her more vulnerable, but retreating back into the van would expose everyone else in the back to any oncoming fire. She was a sitting duck to their fire as they positioned themselves directly behind the van once again. It was only by sheer luck that she hadn't been hit.

"Revy!" Dutch had realized what happened and was at her side in an instant, taking shots at the Yakuza peons with his trusty revolver. His hired gun didn't waste any time taking his cue and briefly withdrew back into the shelter of the van before coming out to fight beside Dutch. In her brief absence, Dutch had managed to put six impressive holes in the car, but apparently their luck had not quite run out. Revy was about to change that.

"I owe ya one, Bossman!" Revy called to Dutch over the sound of gunfire while she started her assault anew and he reloaded this time.

"Don't mention it." Dutch smiled, watching his longest running employee work. " Keepin' my best gun in good health is good for all of us."

Revy chuckled, "Fuckin' got that right." Then with her next shot, she hit the remaining driver straight through the chest, strafing the dashboard and tagging the remaining Japanese thug when the car veered further into her line of fire.

"And then there were none." Dutch spoke as they both took a moment to survey the victory. "Fuckin' A." Each of them leaned out and grabbed one of the door handles and pulled the back doors to a close again. "Everyone alright, back here?" Dutch questioned of his crew as he took his seat back-to-back with the front passenger seat.

Though unharmed, both the office boy and the hacker did look slightly worse for wear at having to endure this peculiar situation where both of them were thrust into the line of fire with only Revy's body to protect them from any stray bullets.

Benny reached a shaky hand up to straighten out his glasses. "Amazingly, there are no wounds here. We're just a little shaken." Rock seconded that sentiment from his place next to Revy on the driver's side of the vehicle.

"That was quite the impressive show, Two-Hands." Balalaika opined from the front passenger seat, only turning her head slightly to regard the gunwoman from the corner of her well trained eye.

"It was nothin'." Revy dismissed the compliment, reaching her pocket to fetch a pack of Camels along with a lighter.

The smell of tobacco filled the van as Revy lit a cigarette and exhaled a large cloud of carcinogenic smoke. In what seemed to be a domino effect, the other three members of Lagoon Company pulled out their own smokes and lit them in succession until Boris remained as the only person in the vehicle without a tobacco product of some kind between his fingers.

* * *

><p>"Shit!"<p>

The brief chime of an office telephone was heard as it was swept sharply off of a desk.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" A well-dressed foot in expensive brown leather loafers made contact with a file cabinet with a resounding metallic booming noise. Another man of youthful appearance with sharp features and bowl-cut brunette hair stood watching the display looking thoroughly wrung-out; like the office appliances were being treated to a similar punishment as the one he'd been on the receiving end of only minutes before.

"SHIT!" With one final violent motion, an older "gentle" man in a business suit with salt and pepper hair was left panting in the middle of his office just after laying waste to a potted Hibiscus plant. The younger agent was hesitant to speak, but decided to try and soothe his older boss.

"Sir…" He began tentatively, only to be met with the enraged, widened eyes of his boss, as if he was just daring the younger man to open his mouth.

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" He asked flatly, "I mean—" The older man cut the junior agent off. His tone was surprisingly calm given the state he was in.

"Do you know what it's like on my side of the desk, Agent Simmons?"

"…No, sir." Simmons was thoroughly unenthused, almost completely certain that he was about to be reamed once again despite the senior agent's near pleasant tone. In his time working for the agency, he'd come to forge the belief that his boss was a man in dire need of anger management. He could hardly blame his colleague if there was any truth to the report that she was going rogue.

"I'll tell you." He smirked in a way that was akin to a dog baring its teeth before leaping to take a chunk out of some adversary. He pointed an outstretched index finger at the desk and continued. "All day long I get to deal with bureaucrats and their goddamn red tape! I have to kiss the asses of some of the biggest pieces of shit on capitol hill just so I can make sure that those incompetent _dipshits _don't screw with our _fucking division_ in the wrong damn ways!"

He was livid again. In the middle of his tirade, he had turned back around to his desk to pick up a stress toy that he'd begun squeezing ferociously, but he was far from done.

"After all of that bullshit, I get to go home and deal with my bloodsucking ice queen bitch of an ex-wife!"

Simmons just stood in front of the door to the office with desensitized boredom. Any second now, he knew the real subject of his anger would come up and he was simply waiting for it. He was waiting in anticipation to take yet another verbal flogging and be done with it, but he didn't have to wait long.

"And if all that wasn't enough, now I have to fucking deal with the fact that _one _of my _best _goddamn agents may have gone rogue…and you didn't say anything about it for _four…fucking…days!_

The younger agent hung his head with a long-suffering sigh, "Sorry sir."

The boss' eyes widened in rage as the apology served only to aggravate him further and he threw the stress toy that he'd been squeezing into a wall to his left. "Don't you fucking 'sorry' me! This is a goddamned intelligence agency for Christ's sake! Just what the fuck am I supposed to say to the Director the next time he asks why this division hasn't tracked down Greyfox? 'Oh, gee, sorry director. That agent doesn't work for us anymore.'" Again he finished his rant and was left standing in the middle of the room panting while attempting to get a grip on his extremely short temper. Once Agent Simmons felt it safe enough, he spoke again.

"You know, the contact reported that the agent planned to come back to the states. If she's planning to resign, she would be completely within her rights. What are you going to do then?"

In response to this bit of overlooked information, Agent Paulson, as his nameplate stated, let out a frustrated growl and brought a fist down on his desk. He offered no immediate answer to Simmons, but in his mind he knew what he would do. If that bitch fucked shit up for him, she would pay for it.

After several deep, calming breaths, he opened his eyes and looked back toward the door to address his agent in a much more subdued manner.

"The boss is breathing down my neck as it is; Simmons…my ass is on the damn line. I can't afford to let just let this go if that is the case."

The younger agent arched a rather confused eyebrow in an expression that also conveyed deep worry at the possible implications of the other man's words. None of the conclusions he could draw in his mind were very comforting. Heaving one final sigh, Simmons turned on his heel to exit the shamefully ransacked office, shutting the door behind himself.

Meanwhile, in the very same city that the agent of interest was assigned to, two figures stood in a previously unused warehouse in the loading docks near the water's edge. Not too far away, there was a large merchant vessel adorned with the inverted tri-force symbol of the ancient Hojo samurai clan along its hull as well as the words "King of Shadows" written in Japanese kanji. Back in the warehouse, the eponymous "king" was discussing business with his right hand, Shimi.

The lumbering Japanese yakuza leader looked cool and confident as ever, yet Shimi appeared a little restless…maybe even a bit irritated about something.

"Sir, the Russian woman has left the city."

An odd smile crept across the leader's lips while he processed that information. The plan was going perfectly thus far, now he need only to be just a little patient for the next couple of days before he put the next part of his plan in motion.

"That's good." The pair went over to the makeshift living area at the edge of the warehouse and sat in seiza on either end of a small table with a lone bottle of sake in the middle and a chess board on the side where Shinji sat. Shimi took it upon himself to pour for the both of them, but didn't get as far as drinking from his own cup. He had something to ask, but didn't feel at liberty to speak freely on the matter. He resigned himself to quiet thoughts as he looked into the depths of the clear liquid. It surprised him slightly when he heard a quiet chuckle from across the table.

"You look like you have something to say, Shimi." Shinji had noted the furrowed brows and the far away look in the other man's eyes.

"It's nothing, boss." He spoke with a subservient tone, not bringing his gaze to meet the Yakuza boss' eyes. Again, Shinji chuckled, "Come now, how long have we known each other?"

The Shogun nodded his concession and sipped his sake before explaining himself fully. Shinji always did have a way of seeing through him. "It's just that…I fear that you're methods—well…I'm afraid you might be testing the loyalty of our men a bit too much."

Shinji nodded, it was something that he had considered as well, but for this particular phase of his plan, there was no avoiding it.

"Our shooters know that if they get sent out on an assignment, it will likely be their last." Shimi continued, "It's starting to make some of them a bit restless."

Shinji simply looked his lieutenant in the eye after downing his cup of sake. Perhaps it was time to start being a bit more open with Shimi if he wanted to avoid testing his second's loyalty too much. "Everyone is expendable." The last time he had uttered the words had been three weeks ago, but Shimi remembered instantly the conversation in this very room. "If we want to end this stalemate," Shinji picked up a piece from the chessboard and examined it closely as he turned it over in his fingers, "then some of our pawns must be sacrificed.

A sudden realization came to the younger Japanese man as he thought about those words, reaching out to make a move on the board in the long-running game the pair had been playing sporadically for some time. "That's why you're using that Lagoon Company instead of just killing them all. To get rid of our worst forces and sharpen the skills of the rest." His eyes lit up at the thought. Perhaps there was some method to this man's madness, after all.

"Yes, that's exactly it." Shinji moved his rook a couple spaces to capture one of Shimi's pawns. The other man took note of his darkening expression before he spoke again.

"Make no mistake that gunwoman and the businessman will die for the role they played in my brother's death. For now, though, the Russians and the Chinese must be dealt with, and before we can properly start a war with Chang we must eliminate his ally."

Shimi nodded in agreement, moving another piece and almost trapping Shinji's queen with his knight. "Agreed. It goes without saying that we have an opportunity to strike while the Russians get re-oriented in her absence, but how much time will that give us?"

The Yakuza leader grinned widely at his second, "That was a nice move…speaking of sacrificing pawns, but not quite good enough." He moved his queen out of the way to a safe distance while taking another of Shimi's pawns in the process. "If I am correct, we should strike within the next twenty-four hours. After that, the real fight will begin."

The boss gazed at the chessboard as the gears turned in his head. Hotel Moscow was his priority, and yet, he sensed that the two from the Lagoon Company held the power to turn the tide of this war. In particular, he was interested in the businessman. He had been most amused at seeing him wield a sword in direct contradiction to every bit of research he had done on him, but at the same time, Shinji could see that there was a huge amount of warrior's potential within the young man…just waiting to be unlocked.

Yes…before this was over, they would have a duel.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Rock! What the fuck?" Revy called as she emerged from the bathroom of their shared hotel room wearing naught but a towel, growing just a bit irritated that her partner hadn't even acknowledged her. "We're in New York fucking City and you're all spaced out doing that samurai shit?" Rock hadn't even made any attempt to show that he had heard her as he continued to strike at the air with his weapon. They had taken a private jet belonging to Hotel Moscow, and so, travelling to another country with their weapons had been somewhat easier than it otherwise would've been.<p>

"Hey! Earth to Rock!" Revy called from behind him, throwing her towel at the air next to his head only to have him strike and cut through the towel in what seemed to be a reflex. Even so, it had the desired effect and the trance broke once he realized what just happened. "Oh…Sorry, Revy." He sheathed the blade and turned to face his partner who, by this time, was clad in a red White Zombie t-shirt and panties. "Shenhua told me not to get soft while I'm in the States."

"Hmm." Revy scoffed as she pulled on a pair of jeans and her boots and then reached over to grab her cutlass. Rock knew what would come next. "And _that's _what you call staying sharp?" she leveled her gun at him, but made no move to pull back the hammer. "How 'bout I give you some real training?" she smirked, finally finding the hammer with her thumb and pulling it back as Rock's eyes widened.

"R-Revy! This isn't Roanapur! You can't just pull out your gun and shoot." There was an edge of hysteria as the businessman tried to reason with his partner, sensing that she actually did intend to pull the trigger and severely doubting his capability to slice through a bullet. His grip on the hilt of the sword and the sheath tightened in preparation, but the volatile gunwoman simply laughed and lowered the weapon.

"Relax, I'm just fuckin' with ya, dipshit." Revy deftly spun the gun around her trigger finger a couple times before placing it back into its holster. "Anyway, I let you show me the sights in Japan; it's only fair that you get the tour of the Big shitty Apple." She winked at him and reached over to retrieve her black leather jacket from the bed, putting it on as she shoved him out the door. She wasn't ready to admit it yet by any stretch of the imagination, but, truth be told, these times where it was just the two of them made her feel alive again. It pained her to think that Roanapur could taint Rock the same as everyone else and take away her last connection to any kind of "decent" life.

"I thought you hated this city." Rock pointed out once they'd begun their walk down the hallway. The moments when Revy allowed him brief glimpses of her hideous past had been few in the time he'd started working for Dutch, but it _was_ clear that she detested this city. Even now behind her carefully crafted poker face, the businessman knew that his partner was aching to leave this place.

Revy's response to him was a light-hearted chuckle that anyone who didn't know her might believe to be sincere, followed by equally carefree words. "Come on, partner, just because this place is a fuckin' shithole doesn't mean there's nothin' fun to do." And there it was: Deflection, the inevitable action that Rock had been waiting for. It was one of the gunslinger's more favored defense mechanisms—reserved for keeping unpleasant memories buried and pushing her crew mates away when they came too close for her liking. Over time, the salaryman had learned to recognize it for what it was and came to be able to push past the defense. This time, however, he simply went along with it and continued the conversation.

Rock nodded his concession and asked of her, "So, where are Dutch and Benny, anyway?" They reached a bank of elevators at the end of their hallway, each one with gold finished doors and frames built into a marble wall. Rock reached out to push the call button and Revy reached into her jacket to retrieve her pack of smokes while they waited.

"Dutch went upstairs to the penthouse to talk shop with Fry-face. Benny's holed up in his room chatting with that hacker bitch." She grimaced in disgust at both the thought of the sexual nature of Benny's chat sessions, and at his choice in women. Rock took the lit cigarette she offered him and gave a small laugh at her annoyance. It was an action that only managed to incur the hot-tempered woman's ire.

"Something fuckin' funny?" Rock had to suppress another laugh at the sight of her being so worked up about something so utterly insignificant, though she had been known to kill for less.

"Well, I guess you could say that it's amusing to me that you hate that girl so much."

"Hey!" Revy let out an indignant cry, "I don't hate her. She's just really fucking annoying."

The pair continued to bicker and banter playfully all the way down to the cab. Once inside, Revy had promptly blindfolded a surprised Rock and commanded him, under threat of bodily harm, not to remove the fabric until they reached their destination. Rock was certain that given Revy's harsh demeanor, and the exact wording of those threats, the poor driver must've thought he was an accomplice to a crime. He wasn't sure how long the ride lasted, but they had traveled what seemed like a fairly lengthy distance. The white collar could feel the bumps in the road, the twists, and the turns as he allowed himself to relax back into his seat.

Finally, after an extended car ride, he felt his weight shift forward slightly as the cab came to a stop. Revy reached forward and paid the driver before pulling Rock from the vehicle; it wasn't time to let him see just yet.

"Revy…where _are _we?" Rock asked after walking several steps arm-in-arm with the gunwoman down what he assumed was a sidewalk. Revy picked up on the slightly nervous tone in his voice and gave his arm a light tug for reassurance, though it was masked behind her need to change direction. "Just a little longer, Rocky-Baby. You'll see."

True to her word, the pair soon came to a stop and Revy placed a hand on his blindfold but stopped just short of removing it, "Listen Rock," her tone had suddenly gone to its menacing quality and, having no clue what he'd done or what was about to happen, her partner's breath hitched in his chest and he let out a barely audible squeak. She resumed her speech in that same tone, "I don't know what you think that pisant little fair was back in Japan, but it wasn't anything 'like a fuckin' carnival.'

At this point, Rock had grown even more confused and his brows were nearly raised into his hairline as he failed to jump onto Revy's train of thought, "Revy…?" In the back of his mind, he registered that he could hear the sound of happy screaming and the creaking of heavy machinery. He realized that she must've brought him to a carnival.

"No, Rock." Her grip on the blindfold tightened, "You're going to learn what a carnival is!" She yanked the cloth from his eyes and suddenly Rock was greeted by the sight of a large wooden roller coaster flanked by various other smaller carnival rides. He knew enough about Western culture to know about the concept of amusement park and carnival rides and it had always been something he wanted to try, but, the culture he grew up in had never afforded him the opportunity. This was actually his first time seeing a roller coaster in person.

"Welcome to Coney Island, partner."

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><p>Aaaaand done! Thanks for reading! Please R&amp;R!<p> 


	14. Best Shot in the East

Hello and welcome to yet another chapter of Roanapur Shakedown. As always, I own absolutely nothing but Black Lagoon on DVD & Blu-Ray. Also, I'd like to take this opportunity to shed just the tiniest bit of light on a couple of things. First off, the Eda storyline will be revisited in the near future with an unexpected twist, and I'm even planning a story focusing on tying up the loose ends of that arc. Second, the "push and pull" between Rock and Revy will continue and become a little more prominent all the way through the end of this story and likely won't be resolved until the next story. Anyway, please enjoy and review!

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><p>Ch. 14: Best Shot in the East: The Origin of Two-Hands<p>

The sights and sounds of New York's famed Coney Island amusement park were absolutely overwhelming. Everywhere Rock turned laughing children could be seen absorbed in one of the many carnival games, or screaming from overhead as the Cyclone coaster was put hard to work. Many of them pulled their parents by the hand to the nearest food vendors, the various smells of which melded together in the air and assaulted the businessman's nose with an aroma so heavenly he couldn't begin to accurately describe it. He kept his mouth shut for fear that the drool might pour out like a faucet.

Looking over to his left, Rock caught sight of a game that he recognized as a shooting gallery and smiled as the memory of the incident at the fair crossed his mind; for the first time that night, Revy had been cheated by someone she couldn't shoot. The smiled faded for the briefest of seconds when Rock's memory reminded him that it was also the night he was introduced to the ill-fated maiden of the Washimine clan. He was back in good spirits just a split second later as his partner spotted the shooting gallery as well and jovially beckoned him to follow her. "Sweet! It's still right where it used to be! Come on, Rock!"

The white collar from Lagoon Company smiled in amusement at the gunslinger's excitement. Hopefully this time around would be less disastrous. "You go ahead, Revy." He gestured to a nearby food vendor that was advertising funnel cakes. "I think I'm gonna go over here first."

"Suit yourself." She shrugged, boots clomping on the ground as she walked off toward the gallery.

Rock returned to her side just a short time later and she had already spent four of her allotted eight shots. It came as no surprise to him that she had successfully tagged each target. In the moment that he spent simply standing and taking in her body language and facial expression, the businessman noted a certain light in her eyes that was different from the way her eyes usually blazed in the middle of a fierce gun fight. It was as if she was enjoying this simple carnival game more than the fighting. He guessed it must've been that there was a tangible prize involved in the shooting game that satisfied her competitive nature.

Rock must've gotten lost in his thoughts and stared just a moment too long because once Revy had fired the fifth round she paused with her hand in the bowl and turned to shoot him a questioning look.

"Somethin' on your mind?" The sixth round was placed in the muzzle of the toy gun as her partner came back from the space of his thoughts.

"Hmm? Why do you ask?" There was a pop and then a wooden clunking sound that signified Revy's sixth hit and the sharpshooter snorted as she reached for the seventh round and pointed out an obvious bit of information, "You stare at me less when I'm half-naked."

A very slight blush graced the Japanese man's cheeks for a short moment at that comment. It was true, Rock didn't make a habit of staring at Revy…or any scantily clad woman really. With Eda and the girls in Rowan's shop, he made a point to avert his eyes from any excess show of skin out of embarrassment. With Revy, it was out of courtesy. Sure, she was pretty much always scantily clad in front of him, but curious as he was about her body in particular from the tattoo, the generous cup size, to the numerous scars that littered it like a story woven on a tapestry, it just felt wrong for him to look at her openly while she was naked without her expressed consent. Granted, over time, he'd become a bit more flexible in that area. That was why he generally only found himself staring at her in such a fashion when he was particularly lost in thought about something.

Rock shook his head of the thoughts and smiled as he watched her work, "It's nothing. I was just thinking that maybe this was where the best shot in the East got an early start toward that title."

Revy's demeanor darkened slightly at the words, though the content expression failed to leave her face. Rock had been half-right in saying that; she just wished it could've been the whole truth. Still, she kept her mask firmly in place for the time being. "You could say that." She chuckled, pulling the trigger and dropping a target, though the absence of humor in that laugh was not lost on Rock.

They stood in silence for a second while Revy loaded her eighth round and then leveled the rifle at her target, apparently having no more to say on the matter at the moment. "All right! Last one!" The trigger gave way under the slight pressure of her finger, but before it could be pulled enough, Revy felt Rock's hand push her arm down.

"Wait." She arched an eyebrow at him in confusion, prompting him to explain just why the hell he'd interrupted.

"Maybe you should aim for a small target this time." He explained, and she followed his gaze to the target she'd been about to shoot, realizing that she had almost repeated her mistake from six months ago since she had chosen to aim at a six inch tall Michael Myers bobble head that likely wouldn't have given way behind the force of a small cork.

A small smirk crossed Revy's face, "Nice save, Rock." In the next second, the eighth target met the same fate as the seven before it and the man running the gallery dumped a supremely oversized teddy bear on top of the gunwoman rather unceremoniously. She grumbled something nearly incoherent from beneath the fuzz as they walked off and finally tired of the burden after only a few steps, violently throwing it to the ground in a random direction. Unseen by either of them, the bear had landed softly at the feet of a lonely little gutter rat, perhaps only about eight years old, who looked as if all he wanted was a little compassion but had been knocked down time and time again. Insignificant as Revy's gesture might have been, the boy had seen it as an intentional gift and he clung to that bear in search of any ounce of warmth and comfort it could provide him as he cried softly in the shadows.

"Hey Rock?" Revy's eyes shone with a hint of mischief from her place beside him.

"Yeah?"

"Did anyone ever tell you sharing is caring?" To his surprise, she yanked his plate of funnel cake out of his hands and ripped a large chunk of the confection away before returning it to him.

"I'll remember that the next time you hog the pizza." Rock deadpanned as his partner chowed down on what was pretty much half of his food that she held in her hand.

Amid the activity of the amusement park and the harassment of the vendors and game runners lined up on either side of them, Rock spotted something of interest to him. It was a tall triangular shaped attraction that appeared to have its riders swinging like a pendulum in between the two legs of the triangle.

"Hey, Revy," He bumped her arm with his elbow to get her attention and pointed toward the contraption, "What's that?"

The sharpshooter furrowed her brow in confusion since she had no memory of the ride from her time as a child. Still, she knew what it was and answered Rock with an excited laugh. "That there's a sky coaster, Rock. Reserved only for the ballsiest motherfuckers."

The businessman from Japan stood watching its movements for a bit longer before he made his decision and kept walking towards the triangle. "I think we should try it, Revy." He could already feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the prospect of feeling the wind rushing through his hair and watching the world rush by. Adrenaline had become something of a drug since he'd started living in the city of the dead. One had to learn to love the fast pace or go cower in a corner and wait for a bullet.

"You sure, Rock?" Revy asked of him in a voice that seemed to be serious, "I mean you've lived through gunfights, explosions, and kidnappings, and some of the worst fuckin' shit our city offers, but I'm not sure you can handle that bad boy." She teased him, much like she did before a drinking match and Rock knew that she was just as eager despite the sarcasm in her voice.

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><p>"Well, everything's taken care of on our end," Balalaika spoke to the boss of Lagoon Company as she placed the phone back into its receiver on the mahogany desk. "The meeting with the Albanians will proceed as planned."<p>

The Russian mafia boss held Lagoon's leader in high regard. Despite the fact that he wasn't Hotel Moscow, there was an unspoken understanding between the pair that he had been shoved into the role of her second-in-command in the absence of her faithful Sergeant…or any other members of Roanapur's Russian faction.

Dutch, who had been nursing a glass of finely aged Crown Royal Reserve, took a slow sip of the amber liquid before addressing the Kapitan. "So…how'd your friends take the news?"

She scoffed at his words. These Russian pisants were not her friends…certainly not her comrades either. Quite honestly, they made her skin crawl. In fact, if boss Slevenin hadn't been so insistent that she offer her services to the fools, she would've gladly sat back from her plush office chair in Roanapur and watched as the Albanians waged a bloody war against Turischeva and his boorish, uncivilized goons. She heaved a long sigh while clipping the end of a fine Cuban cigar. They were disgraces to the name of Mother Russia…all of them.

"He wasn't happy to learn that we didn't come here to destroy his enemy, but," her next words were accented with a cloud of light gray smoke, "I really couldn't care less about this petty dispute over turf. The fact is, Hotel Moscow has its own problems. He can go bark to Slevenin like the dog he is; I've got the boss' support on this matter."

Dutch chuckled briefly. From what little the Kapitan had shared with him on the flight over, it was obvious that she held nothing but contempt for her American counterpart. He was also perceptive enough to note that it was likely due to a massively enflamed ego on the Red Mafia boss' part.

"It was the same with that damn cowboy and his friends back when that cartel from Florida came chasin' after their money maker." Balalaika herself had no hand in that matter, but had heard plenty about it since then, and the thought of it still tickled her twisted sense of humor as she smirked from across the table.

"Things aren't the same here in the good ol' U.S of A. All these organized crime syndicates like to think they're tough shit, but they wouldn't last a day in our fucked up world." His words were full of wordly wisdom, and yet his voice betrayed a vague hint of weariness. While this trip wasn't exactly the former Marine's idea of a vacation, persuading central European gangsters to assist their enemy promised to be a walk in the park compared to the shit storm that was brewing back in Roanapur.

Having nothing more to say, Dutch leaned back into his well cushioned chair and reached into the breast pocket of his flak jacket for a pack of smokes.

The Kapitan conceded to Dutch's sentiment with a weary sigh. Her fingers, which had been laid on a forgotten cigar, finally pressed it down into the ashtray to crush the remaining life from it.

"It's a shame that circumstances prevented me from travelling with my full force. Maybe then we could all avoid the headache of this tedious show of diplomacy."

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><p>Back at the carnival, the gun and the office boy from the Lagoon Company were seated high over the park with their legs dangling in the air from where they sat inside the ferris wheel. Rock had lost track of how long they had spent in the park. They had spent their time well, going on each ride at least once, playing several of the games, and eating lots of food. Now, as they were seated precariously at the top of the large wheel watching the sun sink lower into the sky, silence had overtaken them.<p>

This was how it had been almost from the moment the lap bars had come down.

For much of their time at Coney Island, Revy had been unusually cheerful and carefree. Now, it seemed to Rock as if all of that had just vanished in the blink of an eye. She wore her brooding look well and the businessman had identified it almost easily; from where he sat in the space next to her, he could practically feel the negative vibes diffusing into the air from her very core. While she wasn't what he would call angry, Rock knew that something was very wrong with his partner.

Revy didn't speak to him again until their seat had moved two more times from its position at the top. When she did, it was with a tentative and shaky quality that he had never quite heard in her voice before. There was also something faintly remote about that voice. Looking closer, Rock noted that she had the usual voids in her eyes that would appear when she was trying to suppress some emotion or memory that she didn't want to feel.

"Rock…" Her voice trailed for just a brief moment and he noted that she was fidgeting with her hands, and that they were trembling very slightly. "You know I didn't bring us here just for shits and grins, right?"

Lagoon's white collar swallowed heavily at the words. While he had known she had an agenda on some level of his consciousness, the implications behind what she had said troubled him greatly. Clearly, if she was in such a bad state right now, she had brought him here to have fun and help ease her mind before something bad happened. But what?

An uneasy silence settled over the duo before Rock managed to find a voice inside of his dried out throat. It stayed that way for several seconds that felt unbearably tense to the businessman until he finally managed to force out some collection of words. "Revy…what are we here for?" His speech was gentle, as if he were diffusing a bomb with his voice. The side of Revy he was seeing was both familiar, and yet completely unknown to him and he didn't want to risk spooking her.

His partner continued to stare off into space. She fumbled around her pockets for a moment with a shaky hand before finally retrieving cigarettes and a lighter. She lit one and took an extra long drag off of it and returned her lighter and smokes to their home in her pocket before answering him. "You remember what you said in Japan; about goin' there to forget?" There was a brief pause in her speech and Rock gave a small nod, though she had already continued at that point, or at least tried to.

"Ah, fuck it! I ain't any good at this deep bullshit." Rock heard her mutter under her breath as she shook her head as if to clear her jumbled thoughts. They were about halfway to the bottom of the wheel now, and for the first time since they got on, Revy turned to look at Rock. "You know I can't fuckin' stand being here in this fuckin' piece of shit city." With that statement, he began to form an idea of where she was going with this, but he still couldn't quite connect the dots and he fixed her with a confused look as she kept speaking. "Everywhere I look it's some piece of my shitty past! I need to forget; I knew it was time to deal with my shit when Sis asked us to come here with her.

Now Rock understood.

Coney Island was the one part of Revy's fucked up childhood that she still thought of fondly. She had brought him here to this place to remember the good parts of that childhood before immersing herself in the demons of her past. Still, any possible motives behind this decision concerned him. Was she really just trying to forget, or was there an angle to her attempt at coming to terms with her past?

It was a question that kept turning over inside Rock's mind all the way back to the cab and then on the ride to Mott Street.

Once again, the gunslinger reached forward to pay the cabbie. Rock had yet to notice that they'd even stopped since he was lost in his thoughts and worries. Revy seemed to have more presence of mind given that she'd become focused on the task at hand and that the rundown neighborhood they were presently sitting in had all too often been the subject of her depressing ruminations.

The two of them lingered inside of the taxi cab for a moment, just long enough for the cabbie to open his mouth for the beginnings of what was sure to be a fantastic verbal tirade, but Revy moved her right hand to the door just as he began to speak. The other hand went to the grip of a cutlass hidden beneath her jacket in a display of warning. The cabbie's eyes widened and he turned his attention back to the street. That pile of garbage further up the road suddenly looked mighty interesting.

Wordlessly, the gunwoman gripped her partner roughly by his tie and drug him out of the cab since his mind was apparently still too occupied to comprehend his surroundings. At her touch, Rock realized they had arrived at their destination and his eyes immediately fell upon the ratty old abandoned apartment building that Revy seemed to be heading towards. He could feel the anxiety radiating from both of them.

Rock had long thought that one day he would learn Revy's story; a part of him was even eager to know how his partner ended up where she was in life, but the other part of him dreaded ever knowing something that was sure to be such a tragic tale…and he never thought that she would actually make the first move in telling him. It just didn't make sense! So it was, as they walked up a decrepit old staircase and into one of the apartments, that Rock found himself in a very conflicted state of mind.

The apartment that Revy led Rock into was just as ramshackle as the exterior of the building had become. It was apparent that no one had lived in this unit for quite some time. In fact, what little décor remained in the living room suggested that the apartment hadn't had any permanent inhabitants for at least fifteen years…maybe longer. There were magazines and pieces of mail that looked as if they hadn't been touched in just as long. Clearly Revy had brought him to a place of great significance to her, and obviously something very wrong had happened here. Ironically, Rock mused, the place seemed to visually match Revy's contemptuous opinion of it now more so than it probably ever did when she was living in New York.

Meanwhile, the gunwoman was surveying the living room much like Rock had been doing since they entered. It was the same shitty place where she'd spent her first years, but it was hardly recognizable now. At least back then, there had been a decent landlord who took pride in the upkeep of each unit. She couldn't remember how long the shitheap had been abandoned, but she had caught wind that a slumlord had got his hands on the place shortly before her stint in juvie and her subsequent departure from the United States. From the looks of things; the rumors were true.

"This is where I grew up…" Revy continued to look around as old memories began to come back. It made her stomach turn just being in this place. It wasn't even the worst place from her past, but it was the place where her life turned to shit right before her eyes; still, she forged on.

"The first few years of my life were actually pretty good." Revy allowed a brief smile at the handful of happy memories she had and chanced a look in Rock's direction to see that he was intently listening, albeit there was a certain amount of unease about him.

"I had a mother, I had a father, and they were good fuckin' parents." Her eyes went downward to the floor and Rock knew that she was remembering something, speaking again with bitter words, "Well…one was always better than the other."

"So, what happened?" Rock prodded gently, allowing curiosity to get the better of him, though he knew he would likely dread hearing the rest of this story.

"One day, some shithead mugger changed all that with a fuckin' bullet." Revy didn't disappoint.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, willing herself to continue with this tale. She _would _do it, damn it! Just like easing into freezing water; a little bit at a time.

"I was only four at the time, but I still remember. Good ol' dad was a god damn saint right the dirt covered my mother's casket, but after that…the father I knew disappeared. He drowned himself in booze and whores and didn't give a shit that I was home to see any of it."

From where he remained standing near the door of the apartment, Rock's eyes were frozen wide open in shock. Sure, this was Revy. He wasn't expecting some damn fairytale, but the notion of a small child not even five years old being forced to endure those things pained him greatly. Of course, there was much more to come. Here they were only a fraction of the way into this walk down fucked up memory lane and already both of them were having second-thoughts. Rock was second-guessing ever wishing to know of Revy's past, and Revy just wanted to get the hell out of the old apartment and never look back.

The salaryman watched as his partner squeezed her eyes shut against what was no doubt a particularly bad memory and he braced himself for what he was about to hear.

"The abuse didn't start until a couple months later. Usually he'd get too wasted and turn into one o' those angry pricks who thinks their tough because they have a set o' knuckles, but that wasn't even the worst of it."

Rock's eyes widened at that last part. He had seen all manner of depraved shit over the last year and a half of working for Dutch in the city of death, and this wasn't even worse than any of that, but he found it unbearable to listen to the sufferings of someone he felt so strongly for. It just wasn't right!

"Revy…"

Her eyes snapped open and fixed him in their sights with a pointed glare. "Shut up!" She had to do this while she had the chance and she feared that she might lose her nerve if she allowed Rock to speak his mind.

"On my fifth birthday, the fuckin' alkie son of a bitch told me he wasn't my real dad…told me that mom got knocked up by some rapist. Then he gave me the birthday gift of a swift kick in the ass out the door. I remember that I somehow managed to find my way to Coney Island. I slept underneath a table at the shooting gallery that night."

Though his stomach turned at the depressing details of Revy's story, Rock's interest was piqued by the turn of events. The fact that she was Chinese-American was something he had always known, but he had always secretly wondered why her appearance was only a vaguely Asian one. It seemed to support her father's claim that she was not his. As Revy continued her tale, the salaryman ceased his contemplating and gave her his utmost attention once again.

As she spoke, she turned on her heel and stepped with heavy boots on the rotting wood leading to the hallway. Rock followed like a dog on a leash.

"From then on…I was nothin' but a little rat livin' in the fuckin' gutter. For the next three years, I did what I had to just to get by in the filth of the projects; I stole, and I fought, but I didn't have to kill…not yet." They had stopped in the doorway of one of the two bedrooms. Judging by its larger size, Rock guessed it was the master bedroom.

"At some point, I got careless and stayed out o' my shelter too late after dark. The next think I know, I had two dipshit pigs on my ass chasing me back through an alley—you know, the fuckers I told ya about on the sub".

Rock nodded his head, swallowing down the bile that was burning at the back of his throat. He remembered that conversation very well, and he knew this was about to take a brutal turn. When Revy continued again, her voice was considerably more shaky despite the fact that her composure failed to be broken.

"I can still remember 'em laughin' behind me while they shot at my feet, and then I tripped…Let's just say, that was the last goddamn time I begged for mercy from anyone. When I woke up in that alley the next day I was fuckin' ready to blow. I had a bitch of a headache, my body felt like it was hit by a truck, I was pissed at where my life was and I wanted blood. That was the day I made my first kill." Revy's empty eyes drifted toward a corner of the bedroom where a ratty old mattress still sat and down to the feathers scattered on the floor. On the wall at the head of the bed, the faint sight of a faded blood stain could be seen; though no one would really recognize it as such unless they already knew it was there. Her hollow eyes lingered on the stain. "Can you guess who it was?"

Rock didn't even have to guess, he knew. One man had abandoned her and thrust her into her life of scavenging and greed. "You're father?"

Revy gave a short nod to affirm that he was correct before offering an explanation. "When I woke up, I noticed that one o' the cops had dropped their gun; at least, I assumed it was the cop's. I didn't know a damn thing about real guns: not the make; not the model. I was just seein' fuckin' red. I came straight back to this place and found my deadbeat shithead ol' man passed out in his fuckin' bed under a pile o' liquor. I put a pillow over the old man's face and fired."

Rock's eyes widened in recognition as he looked on at the disorganization inside the room. "So then…these feathers?"

"They're what's left of a crime scene." Revy affirmed, and as if she were inside Rock's head reading his thoughts from a computer screen, she elaborated even further on the state of the apartment. "Not long before I came back, the place got sold to some scumbag slumlord. After the murder, he never bothered fixing it up again, or getting' rid of the ol' man's shit. Everything you see here is what nobody bothered to steal over the years."

With this new information, Rock was just slightly unnerved. He had just assumed that at least one person had lived here for a short time afterward. Now that he realized differently, the place was even more like a time capsule. It was literally a link straight to Revy's past. Everything that remained in the place would've been familiar to her in some way. No wonder she was so affected. It gave Rock chills just thinking about that fact.

No longer able to stand anymore of the oppressive atmosphere combined with the torturous memories, it was Revy who moved from the doorframe first.

"Time to get the fuck out of here."

Rock was all too eager to comply, for he too was eager to escape from this nightmarish funhouse of Revy's agonizing memories.

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><p>Well there's 14 finally! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! R &amp; R!<p> 


	15. To Russia With Love

Here we go into Chapter fifteen. I appreciate each and every one of you who has read and/or reviewed thus far! Anyway, shit's really gonna hit the fan in this chapter so hold onto your seats! If I owned it, I wouldn't need to type this shit! Anyway, R&R! also, text that looks like _**this**_ is being spoken in a foreign language.

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><p>Ch 15: To Russia With Love<p>

It was just after 8 p.m. in the city of Roanapur. As always, the streets were alive with the sights and sounds of criminal activity…or just your basic shady dealings. People were killing, stealing, and hawking stolen shit on the streets just like they always did, but the most questionable activity of the evening was a seemingly harmless one. In the loading docks on the outskirts of town, a team of men all clad in traditional black kimonos had assembled. They were each bearing bladed Japanese weapons of various types as they headed toward an unmarked van near the entrance of the freight yard. They'd been given their marching orders, and now it was time to start a war.

Before entering the vehicle, each man turned and bowed respectfully to some unseen person in the distance. Shinji bore the faintest trace of a smile on his lips and from beside him, Shimi's expression was a more ambivalent one conveying a mix of both pride and deep worry at their decision. Nonetheless, he bowed along with his master to the departing soldiers in a gesture of reciprocated respect and well wishing.

It was several minutes later when the black van pulled up across the street from the side of the Bougainvillea Trading Co. building. Each of the men noted the car belonging to the head of Roanapur's Italian faction situated in front of the building…just the way it was supposed to be.

The sounds of blades scraping against their sayas could be heard as each warrior unsheathed his blade like one piece of a machine. The moonlit glinted off of their blades as they exited the vehicle and silently crept around the corner to dispatch the two unsuspecting Russian guards. They were a wolf pack filled with the bloodlust of the hunt; not to be stopped until their prey was hunted.

Tonight's prey?

All the Russians they could slaughter before being sent to their graves themselves in faithful service to their master.

Less than two minutes later, the faint sound of the chaos inside could be heard from the street. The Russian visotoniki's shouts were mixtures of rage, confusion, and surprise as they began to fire on the squad of swordsmen and scrambled to mount a counter offensive against the intruders on their own turf. There were cries of agony and pained shrieks as limbs were cut off and soldiers were impaled on sharp steel, and occasionally, the sounds of shouted curses in Japanese as high caliber bullets successfully ripped through a target. Still, the battle raged as the remaining yakuza members refused to back down in the face of heavy fire power and the enraged members of Hotel Moscow sought to avenge each and every one of their fallen comrades.

It was finally over after ten minutes of intense combat. The soldiers who hadn't been wounded wasted no time in setting up a triage station to examine and sort out the wounds of those who still lived. The rest all squirmed restlessly in the hallways as some of them clutched at stumps where limbs were cut off and all of them moaned and groaned in concession to various degrees of pain.

On the ground floor, there was a long trail of blood that lead from just out in the corridor back into the main office of Hotel Moscow. The blood smeared all over the office phone on the desk and down the front of the desk where the hand that had reached for the phone lay motionless. The man in the floor knew nothing more of the horror and gore playing out in the hallway like a scene from a Soviet army hospital during the war.

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><p>Half the globe away in the big apple, the clock had just recently struck nine a.m. and the Lagoon Company was once again on the move. This time, each of them, plus Balalaika, was seated comfortably in a limo provided begrudgingly by Boss Mikhail Turischeva of the Red Mafia. They were currently on their way to a meeting with Turischeva and the head of the Albanians down in South Beach in the Staten Island Burrough. While Balalaika had chosen to busy herself with some reading, Dutch and Benny enjoyed the sights. Rock, on the other hand, was too concerned for Revy to think about much of anything else.<p>

Since their Impromptu trip to Chinatown the day before, Rock had overall been grateful that Revy had seen fit to share a part of her past with him, but at the same time he felt tortured at the thought of those things. More than that, he was worried about what effect the churned up memories might have on Revy during this meeting if anything should get tense. She was already quick to shoot. It didn't ease his mind much that the gunslinger had been acting even more cold and distant toward him than she had been after the "incident" three weeks earlier.

Soon enough, they had pulled up to a little cabaret theatre on the south end. When the group walked inside, they were met with the sight of a rather unusual performance. The show being performed on stage was a curious mix of burlesque, vaudeville, spaghetti western, and soft core pornography. What had begun with the apparent prostitute offering her thanks to the cowboy by doing a strip tease to the tune of her own off-key rendition of some nineteenth century ditty had quickly progressed into a display of a man in assless chaps dry humping a woman in front of an audience. Dutch and Benny chuckled like immature school boys while Rock looked awkwardly at anything else. Balalaika and Revy both wore the same look of disgust; Balalaika simply turned her nose up at the entire classless display, and Revy was offended by that kind of tarnishing of the cowboy gunslinger image.

The group continued on through to the back of the main room until they reached a doorway next to the stage. They were almost immediately greeted by a tall blonde headed man with blue eyes and a rather large, broad-shouldered build. His demeanor was, if possible, even more stoic than that of Sergeant Borisov's and his face seemed to be permanently fixed into a deep scowl.

The man led them down a short series of twists and turns until they arrived at the office serving as the base of operations for the Red Mafia. Where Balalaika prided herself on maintaining a state of constant order in every aspect of her operations, things seemed to be almost the exact opposite here. Disregarding all other things about it, the peeling paint on the walls and the ratty old furniture were already a stark visual contrast to the pristine condition of the Russian office in Roanapur. On top of all that, Turischeva's reputation as a drug addled hedonist was well evidenced by a scattered assortment of empty liquor bottles, food trays, and traces of cocaine visible on the coffee table. It truly was a disgraceful sight.

In the middle of it all sat the boss of New York's Red Mafia himself. He was a middle aged Russian immigrant with slightly graying dark brown hair and cold grey eyes. His obese condition and unsightly facial appearance served as a testament to the life he lived in constant indulgence of various kinds of pleasure.

He looked up at the group from the plate of borscht he'd been stuffing himself with and gave an incredibly fake smile while he greeted them before taking another large bite, "Well, if it isn't Balalaika! _**Greetings**_to you and your associates."

Again, The Russian mafia queen was disgusted by this appalling display. With an irate look on her scarred features, she took his words to be the closest thing to an offer to sit that she could hope to receive and claimed a spot on the couch immediately across from the fat slob of a man. She motioned for the others to do the same before taking out and lighting a cigar.

With an exhale of smoke, she spoke out about her sheer frustration with the man's apparent lack of self-control and manners.

"Is it really too much to hope for that you might cease your impressive impersonation of a farm animal long enough to conduct this meeting?"

Turischeva gave a low growl as he fixed Balalaika with a hard glare and swallowed a mouth full of beet-root. This woman thought _so_ freakin' highly of herself. Just who was she to come into _his_ office and immediately tell _him _what to do? "I don't have to do shit for you, fry-face. I'll do what I want on _my _own damned turf.

"Oh really?" The woman grinned with false amusement, bearing her teeth like the Cheshire cat, "Who do you suppose came half-way around the world to deal with the mess created by the way you do business? Hmm?" Everyone watched the back and forth and took notice of the subtle reddening of the Red Mafia boss' face as Balalaika continued to speak in an innocent tone. "Oh, that's right; I did." She exhaled a cloud of smoke directly into Turischeva's face and he snapped, brushing aside the items on the coffee table with a violent motion. Dutch pulled out a cloth and wiped some stray liquid from the Borscht soup off of his face.

"Don't make me laugh!" He barked in his fit of rage, "I wanted them destroyed, but instead you get to use them as your own fucking pawns! What a joke."

Balalaika scoffed at his comments and was quick to comeback with her own retort, "If that's how you feel about it, I suppose I could just leave and get back to my own problems then. Believe me, it would bring me pleasure to see you and your men slaughtered like the filthy swine you are." While her tone had been deceptively pleasant in contrast to her harsh words, it too, suddenly gained a harsh quality as she made her next statement. "Take a good look around you, Mikhail. _You're _the joke. There's a reason that your Red Mafia is struggling compared to the rest of the Russian footholds around the globe."

The boss looked severely insulted at that; looked as if he was torn between launching into a tirade or pulling out a gun and shooting the bitch between the eyes. Revy judged that the latter was more likely and cautiously wrapped a hand on the grip of one of her 92s.

"Revy…" Rock addressed her quietly enough so that only she could hear. Overnight, he had seen her disposition deteriorate into something akin to what followed their conversation on the sub and feared that she might act too rashly if things looked as if they would get violent.

In response, she fixed him with a hard glare to silence him that said she wasn't stupid enough to fuck this up. Obnoxious as he was, without this man, there was no meeting with the Albanians. To ruin that would likely mean her own death at the hands of the Kapitan.

The tense stand-off situation was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Once again, the tall blonde man appeared and stood to the side to reveal another shorter man with dark hair and blue eyes followed by a rather lanky man who looked like he couldn't be out of his teens who also had dark hair and green eyes. It was clear just by the way that they carried themselves that the first man was the boss and the second was his assistant. The Albanian's eyes widened at the sight of Balalaika seated on one of the couches. Even in their homeland, Hotel Moscow was widely revered. But, if she was here, that couldn't bode well for them.

Simultaneously, the shocked expressions on the two men's faces were replaced with expressions of outrage as they looked toward Turischeva.

"What the hell?" The boss muttered under his breath, while the second man let out an obscenity laced question of his own. "Çfarë dreqin është kjo?"

Pleased at their panicked reactions, Turischeva gave a cocky smirk before reassuring his rivals with just a touch of bitter disappointment in his voice, "Relax, they aren't here to kill you." Then he turned his attention to Balalaika as the two men sat to his left on the couch, finding it rather difficult to get comfortable.

"Balalaika, meet the head of the Albanian mafia, Behar Barisha." He gave a wave of his hand to the stockier of the two men with the blue eyes, then indicated the man next to him, "and his second, Luan Hasimi."

"Behar, Luan, meet Balalaika. As I'm sure you're already aware, she's the head of the Hotel Moscow branch of the Russian Mafia.

Boss Barisha gave a slight nod and allowed himself to relax only just. As far as he was concerned, he was still among enemies despite their intentions. He allowed a polite smile to grace his gaunt features as he addressed her in his thickly accented voice. "You're reputation precedes you. Still, what business do you have here if not to kill me?"

The Russian's immediate response was simply to take a deep drag of her cigar, leisurely taking her time before finally answering that question. "It's simple, really. I was enlisted to annihilate you and your forces, but then I learned that you could be of use to me."

The Albanian mafia lieutenant was the first to speak up. He didn't like what she was insinuating...the way that she spoke of them as if they were mere tools to be used and thrown away. "Even if that's true, what makes you think that we would entertain the notion of doing business with filthy Russian pigs after all of this fighting?!"

Under any other circumstance, Balalaika would've been insulted at the outburst, but given that his only experience with Russians was with people as distasteful as Turischeva and his subordinates, she was inclined to be more understanding. So, with a pirate smile on her face, the Kapitan answered him calmly. "I think you'll find that Hotel Moscow conducts business with a good deal more dignity than these fools who claim Russia as their homeland." Mikhail bristled visibly at that but managed to contain his anger, "As for your question, Hotel Moscow is dealing with a problem that I'm given to understand your people are very familiar with: Shinji Matsuzaki."

Both of the Albanians gasped at the name. They remembered all too well the bloodshed that forced them to this foreign city an ocean away from their small homeland. Behar stared intensely down at the coffee table for several long moments; this was no easy decision. On the one hand, he would love an opportunity to get even with the Japanese bastard that drove him out of his own country. On the other hand, that opportunity came at the risk of a repeat of the same bloody war along with the risk of losing his established turf here in New York City to the Russians.

As the silence dragged on, Balalaika's voice broke into his thoughts, "Should you choose to offer your help, you would of course have the full forces of Hotel Moscow's Visotoniki and the Roanapur branch of the 4K Triad fighting at your side." Then she glanced to Revy in the seat to her left with a wry smirk, "Not to mention...the most skilled gun in the Eastern hemisphere."

Of course a Russian would be the one to try and coax him into leaving his new life at the convenience of a fellow Ivan...and it was tempting, oh, so tempting, but there was still the problem of what would become of his territory.

The man chuckled bitterly as he continued to stare down at the table for a brief moment, "Revenge _is _alluring, but..." He looked up and stared her down with his piercing icy blue eyes and hit straight at the heart of the matter. "I'm afraid I must ask; what more besides revenge is in it for me?"

Boss Turischeva was absolutely livid and appeared as though he might grab his fellow European around the throat and throttle him where he sat. The Kapitan was quick to silence any possible outburst on his part with a deadly gaze despite her similar feelings. Indeed, Barisha had a lot of nerve to ask for more when she could easily come back and kill him at a later date. She sensed, however, that there was more to this and so chose to hold her tongue and listen for the time being. She was not disappointed.

"I'm sure you can see the difficult position that helping you would place us in, afterall. We've spent months battling to make a name for ourselves here in the city. If we withdraw, it would be only too easy for the Red Mafia to reclaim their lost turf overnight."

Indeed, that was a difficult position, not that Balalaika really cared as long as she got to see Shinji rot in hell for his crimes against her. Still, she supposed that something should be said to sway him fully to her side, but what?

"If I may?" Rock asked, clearing his throat from Revy's left side and drawing the attention of the room.

"Huh? Who the fuck is this guy?" Turischeva questioned Balalaika with a dismissive tone, barely even paying attention to Rock.

"This is Rock. He's a former business man with a number of various skills. At the moment, he's acting as our negotiator."

Behar and Luan had immediately taken a keen interest in the Japanese ex-salaryman. It was clear to both of them that he was not one to take lightly, but he also was far closer to pure being a pure spirit than anyone else in the room. It was a curious mix that intrigued the Albanian boss and he addressed Rock with a deceptively kind smile that Rock had found was a common trait in the underworld, "You may speak."

"Choosing to leave this city would actually be to your benefit." Each of the Albanians arched confused eyebrows and Rock continued with his speech. Intriguing indeed. "Roanapur is a city governed by the heads of major factions working together to maintain a necessary order. If you go through with this, you'd be gaining the favor of the Russian mafia _and _the Hong Kong Triad and you would have the opportunity to make a name for yourself in a city that is literally governed by crime."

Behar looked back and forth between Rock and Balalaika several times before settling on the Russian and asking warily of her, "This is legitimate?"

To the chagrin of her American counterpart, the Kapitan leaned forward and crushed her cigar on his table before offering a smirk and a cryptic answer, "All I care about is Matsuzaki's head on a silver platter; help me with that and you can do what you wish."

"So, then," Behar smirked as he leaned forward to grasp Balalaika's hand, "It would seem we have an accord."

* * *

><p>Night time in Roanapur found Dai-Lo Chang sitting by himself in his office enjoying some rarely afforded time to himself. He was lounging on one of his black leather couches and his feet were crossed as they sat propped upon the glass coffee table. The drink he held in his hand was a mixture of finely aged Jim Beam and Coke on the his rockstar image and reputation around town, Chang found himself indulging in booze by himself much more often than he did socially. He found that it help to relax him and clear his mind of the stresses that came with running your average crime syndicate. Looking up at the clock through a slightly bleary eye, he saw that it was nine-thirty in the evening already.<p>

'9:30 and nothing to do.' What he wouldn't give for some action right about now.

A couple moments later, he flipped himself over the back of his chair and drew both guns when Biu barged rather loudly and unexpectedly through the door. Miraculously, the glass landed on the bar behind him without a single drop having been spilled and Chang looked on with bewilderment at his right-hand man.

"Where's the fire, Biu?" He straightened his skewed sunglasses and holstered his guns, but became serious when he noticed the look of urgency on the other Asian's face.

"Dai-Lo! It's Hotel Moscow; they've been hit!"

Chang instantly felt the tension flow into his body at the news. Balalaika was already on pins and needles trying not to wage a premature war against the Yakuza assholes. When she got word of this, they would all be going to war.

"What was it?! Another bomb?" The pair were already heading down the hall and down the emergency stairwell of Chang's building. If Hotel Moscow had been hit again, it meant the very real possibility that the Triad's would be. Better to move in the shadows as best as possible for the time being.

"No. It was a direct assault about an hour and a half ago. They were caught off guard."

"Jesus." Chang muttered to himself as they continued to make their way down the stairwell and to the back door. This wouldn't be pretty.

"Any word on casualties?"

"No." Biu opened the driver's side door of one of the Triad Mercedes while his boss got into the passenger side. "Watsap only just called a moment ago. He just said you needed to get down there."

After being very careful to make sure that they weren't followed, Biu slipped quietly away into the Roanapur night among the citizens who remained completely oblivious to the horrible war threatening to swallow the city at this very moment. They arrived in a matter of about five minutes. The outside of the Bouganvillea Trading Company was a sight in and of itself. The people of roanapur had long held Balalaika and the Visotoniki up on a pedestal as some sort of untouchable figures. Once word of the attack had gotten out, they lined the streets to stare in shock at the building which housed the bloody battle ground.

Chang silently stepped out of the car and his eyes immediately flitted to the Italian model car sitting directly in front of the building. He didn't have time to dwell on it as Chief Watsap spotted him and beckoned him over. The chief himself was knelt over two expertly mutilated Russian bodies; each of them had been dealt a fatal blow to the head, but their attackers had continued to slice and dice at them for good measure.

The triad boss shook his head grimly. It really was an impressively gruesome sight, and this was just the preview.

Neither of them spoke again until they'd entered the building; one would've thought from all the blood, guts, and anguished screams they had walked through a portal straight to hell. It was enough to turn even Chang's stomach as he grimaced at the sight.

"Shit..." He breathed softly, removing his sunglasses and cleaning them as he looked on at the fortunate members of the Visotoniki working feverishly to help their wounded comrades and move the dead one's aside. He replaced the aviators back onto his face and questioned Watsap further as they moved through the carnage toward the office. "What's the count?"

"Thirty-six dead." Watsap removed his cap in a rare display of respect toward the members of the Russian mafia as they began to move through a hallway that was thick with a huge portion of those corpses. What went without saying was that there were several more who had suffered severe injuries who might not survive. It was the same everywhere the eye wandered whether the bodies were dead or injured: missing limbs, gaping wounds, and lots of blood.

"I noticed the car out front..." Chang referenced the Italian mafia vehicle parked outside the front door, wondering what Watsap had to say about it.

"Yeah! Apparently, Boris and a couple of the higher ups were having a little business meeting. That's the best I've been able to gather from anyone around here. The Sergeant's not in condition to say much."

"Is he...?" Chang's eyes widened in shock at the very possibility of Balalaika's right-hand being killed. That single death would anger her ten times more than any of the individual thirty-six men she had lost. Fortunately, the chief was quick to dispel his concern.

"No, just unconscious...lost a lot of blood though. They've got him up in the infirmary. Apparently, he was the only Russian to be shot."

At that moment, they reached the threshold of Balalaika's office and Chang's keen eyes immediately fell upon the deceased Italian laying on his back in the middle of the room with his head pointed toward the door. He was sliced up much like the others, but what aroused Chang's suspicion was the fact that he still clutched his Benelli B76 model pistol in his right hand.

"You don't say..." The triad boss knelt over the man, having a pretty good idea that he'd just found the shooter.

"Hey...Watsap, was Boris found in this room?"

The chief nodded, curious as to where Chang was going with this. To him, the Italian looked just like the other bodies. Someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unless...

"Yeah, over there in front of the desk. Son of a bitch!"

Watsap realized it: The body placement that had him facing toward the desk, the gun in his hand, the bullets that matched that particular model recovered from Boris' body. This guy was the shooter, but why?

"Yep," Chang affirmed, stepping over to the back of the couch that sat opposite the door and finding the other Italian, "and look at this." The other body had been shot and cleaved cleanly in half. This could've been explained by Boris or someone else taking a shot at the man who had sliced through this guy, but it wasn't likely. It appeared to Chang that the Italians had chosen to side with the Yakuza and had attempted to have their involvement covered by having their own men killed.

Watsap let out a low whistle at the sight of the small sub-machine gun in the dead man's hand. "Are your business meetings always this bloody?"

Chang chuckled as he lit himself a cigarette, "No, not always. Although, the Italians have been a pain in the ass for a while now. I guess they just jumped at opportunity."

It was then that the polyphonic sound of Tomoyasu Hotei's Battle Without Honor filled the office and Chang excused himself from the scene, reaching into his coat pocket and flipping the phone open.

"Chang here..."

* * *

><p>Well, there's another one down. I hope you liked it! Anyway, please R&amp;R!<p>

Çfarë dreqin është kjo- Albanian for "What the Fuck is this?!"


	16. The Volcano Erupts

Hey guys! As you might've guessed from the last chapter, things will pretty much be all action from here on out. If you've made it this far I hope you'll continue reading! I own nothing; enjoy and R&R!

Ch 16: The Volcano Erupts

"What now, Boss?" Benny asked as the Lagoon company gathered outside the shady little cabaret theatre in Staten Island. Balalaika had left them to their own devices for the moment, heading to the Russian embassy to make arrangements for their departure a long with a little sweet talking to get the Albanian mafia forces smooth passage out of the country. All said and done, it was a process that would take quite a while.

"Well," Dutch sighed as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a map that had a few points of interest marked. "We got time enough for a little sight seein' while we're just hangin' around." He let his eyes wander down the map and to a particularly interesting landmark that was only a couple blocks away. "I suggest we start our tour off a couple blocks down at the nearest watering hole. Lord knows it might be good to get some alcohol in our veins before we get tossed back into the damn fryin' pan."

"That's the truth." Benny conceded his agreement with a smile, turning to regard the two heaviest drinkers of the group with curiosity since neither of them had said anything on the subject. "You guys coming?"

Rock looked as if he'd been snapped out of some deep thought; something that had been happening increasingly more often as of late. He just shook it off and offered the hacker a good-natured smile. "Sure, I'm in." Maybe a little alcohol was what he needed to get over his distress from yesterday. It was the cross he bared as an overly compassionate soul. It just wasn't in his nature to be content standing idly by as people around him suffered. This feeling was made worse by the fact that he now knew details of Revy's tortured past, yet he was powerless to do anything about it. Add to that the whole mess with Shinji and he had come to be wound tighter than a golf ball.

Oh yes, Rock needed a drink, alright.

Just as he had given his answer and made to move toward the other two and join them in their short walk, Revy's hand pulled him back by his jacket sleeve. He turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow and she offered Dutch the explanation.

"Sorry, Boss-man. I've got my own business to deal with, and this guy's comin' along." The company boss simply shrugged and Benny offered one final temptation as they each turned to go their separate ways.

"Suit yourselves."

As an afterthought, Dutch called back to the pair over his shoulder, "We'll meet back up at the hotel."

Since Rock was not at all familiar with the streets of New York City, he was content to let Revy lead him through the crowds of pedestrians as they meandered down turn after turn. He didn't have the slightest idea where she was taking him right now, but judging by the shift her disposition had taken toward broody, he had a pretty good idea what the final destination of their trek through the streets would be, and he wasn't relishing the idea of returning to that haunted place.

"We're going to Mott Street again, aren't we?" Rock maneuvered politely past a pregnant woman and two hobos in the middle of a shouting match over whose corner was whose.

"Yes." Was Revy's simple offer. Other than her typical darkened mood when in the face of her past, it struck Rock that she was notably calmer about this trip than she had been yesterday. There was almost a peaceful nature—a resolve—to the conflicting storm of emotions going on behind her eyes. Rock didn't know what to make of it.

Hell, she didn't even seem to notice or care when some big, tall, fat guy bumped into her on the sidewalk. On any other occasion that incident would've been grounds for the gunwoman to unleash a rather brutal string of insults and profanities.

Eventually, Revy found that she had walked far enough to allow her mind to clear sufficiently for the task at hand. Conveniently, her feet had led her to the bus stop to Manhattan.

The gunslinger didn't waste any time in plopping herself down on the vacant bench and lighting up a soothing cigarette. Rock, on the other hand, opted to remain standing at her side.

He would _always_ stay at her side.

Revy shook excess ash from the tip of her cigarette twice before either of them broke the half-comfortable silence that had settled in between them.

"Aren't you strapped for cash, yet?" Rock questioned of her in a tone that was slightly joking, and in answer, she turned to him with a raised brow and offered a simple grunt.

"Well, between the long taxi trips yesterday and the room service at the hotel, you've been forking over quite a bit of cash. I'm just saying…wouldn't it be cheaper to take the ferry?"

Revy scoffed, excreting a cloud of smoke from her nose and looking rather like a dragon in the process. "Dipshit…you get the same paycheck I do, you know full well we can afford that shit." The half-smoked cigarette was dropped and crushed beneath her boot as she offered Rock a friendly smirk, "Besides, this is faster. I wanna get this fuckin' over with."

"Well…actually, once you account for Manhattan's traffic, it's probably close to the same."

"Shut up." Revy grimaced with mild irritation and countering Rock's remark with a threat, "Keep runnin' that damn mouth o' yours and _you'll _be paying our fare."

The timbre of her voice had taken on its typical venomous quality, but to Rock's pleasure, the effect was negated by the grin that crept across Revy's face. Despite the apprehension that shrouded both of them at the thought of going back to Mott Street, and the terrible memories that would no doubt dredge themselves up again, the mood between Lagoon Company's dynamic duo was a good deal lighter today than it had been yesterday.

Still, it was the unknown about Revy's unfinished business that troubled Rock and kept him from relaxing completely. What could she possibly need to go back for?

It was more than a half hour later that the pair of them finally arrived at the old apartment building on Mott Street. The climb up the decaying staircase was a torment made worse with each step by the knowledge of just how exactly this place fit in to the puzzle that was Revy. He knew that however he might feel about this place, Revy's feelings were at least a hundred times worse, so it baffled the businessman as to _why_ on earth she would want to come back!

It was just a short while later after they'd finished their climb and the short walk through the apartment and into that forgotten back bedroom that Rock received some kind of explanation from the gunslinger. They stood in silence inside the old crime scene for several moments. Revy was apparently lost in memories of her past in this place and Rock had numerous questions swirling around in his mind, but had sense enough to know that whatever was going on with his partner needed to happen.

He probably had missed it earlier because of his ignorance about what had happened inside this residence, but today, there was an eerie chill that seemed to hover over the room like some sentient fog. It diffused through the room to waiver and then peak in certain spots, while simultaneously wrapping itself around the occupants in a shroud of gloom. That was why Rock was surprised when he looked over to see Revy standing near where the bed was with her eyes closed and an odd look of serenity on features that he had only seen this relaxed while the gunwoman was asleep and oblivious to the filth that plagued her in her waking hours. He felt his mouth fall open but remained rooted where he stood when he saw the faintest of smiles begin at the corners of her mouth immediately followed by her hand retrieving the lighter from her pocket while she stepped toward the curtains.

Rock understood now.

With a simple flick of her wrist, a small spark from the lighter was all it took for the curtains above the bed to be set ablaze. Just as quickly and easily as it had come, the strange expression was gone from Revy's face and her demeanor was replaced with an attitude that Rock was more familiar with.

"Well?" She continued to walk casually toward the door, only addressing him when he failed to move, "You can either move your fuckin' ass or stand here and come out lookin' like fry face. I ain't gonna fuckin' carry you outta here like some bullshit fireman."

The white collar simply smiled and obliged his partner. After what he witnessed from her in that room, he knew that this return to her typical disposition was more than likely out of habit and preference rather than any inability to conduct herself otherwise…not that he expected any sudden miraculous change from her. It would take some time to exorcise the ghosts of her past _completely_.

There was no time for him to dwell on his thoughts any further. The rotten old wood and dusty furniture that remained inside Revy's childhood home provided excellent fuel for the flames and it didn't take long before they both began to feel the heat tickling at their retreating backs. They dashed down the staircase at a pace that seemed hugely faster than the one they had taken going into the place, and in less than a minute, they were out in the open again.

The pair stood there on Mott street's main thoroughfare for a brief moment before Revy reacclimated herself and tugged Rock roughly by his tie into a nearby alley before they could be noticed. "Come on!" She ordered in her usual sharp tone, leaving the businessman to give a small yelp as he was yanked off his footing with surprising force. They followed the twists and turns of Chinatown's back alleys for several minutes without any words spoken between them. Nothing really needed to be said at the moment: Revy had done what she came to do and knew that her partner understood the importance of it, and Rock knew that now or anytime soon would not be the right time for any discussion on the issue. Both of them were running on the adrenaline that came with outrunning a blaze and the risk of being caught burning down an entire building in a country that wasn't quite as lenient as Thailand.

Soon enough, they came to a stop somewhere a few blocks away from the vacant apartment. Just as they did, a firetruck zipped by in a blur of yellow just after the sounds of sirens met their ears. Rock looked back toward the direction they originally came from and noticed that smoke was beginning to appear in the sky. He looked over at Revy and she seemed transfixed by the sight of the dark puffs as they billowed into the atmosphere.

Then, it shattered.

As suddenly as she had grown hypnotized by the smoke, she came crashing back to her senses as the presence of another being was made known to them by the whistled strains of Twisted Nerve echoing through the backstreet. There was something about that whistle…it made her uneasy. She acted immediately and made some attempt to pull Rock with her into what little shelter there was. As the whistling continued and grew closer, she struggled to remember _why _that specific pitch and style was so damn familiar.

"Revy…what the…?" Rock protested against being shoved so roughly and so suddenly without any reason apparent to him, but it fell on deaf ears. Then the whistling ceased just as the gunslinger remembered the noise. Her eyes flew open in horrified recognition.

"Shit!" She couldn't deal with them on their own turf! She'd be put away for the rest of her life for sure!

Just as the thoughts crossed her mind, two middle-aged men rounded the corner into their part of the alleyway. Rock spotted them just a split second before Revy. One was tall and thin with a rather gaunt facial structure, while the other was shorter and more burly in his appearance. They both looked at Revy with the same depraved gleam in their eyes. The white collar was quick to note that they wore suits but both had NYPD badges adorning their belts indicating to him that they were detectives. That was when he realized it…these must've been the same two cops Revy had run afoul of as a child; obviously, they'd been promoted at some point.

The pair from Lagoon acted in sync, turning to look at the predatory detectives with widened eyes. Though she knew using them here would only get her in more hot water, Revy rapidly drew each of her cutlasses and aimed them at the crooked cops. Her eyes had gone hollow and her tone dangerous…a front for the fear she felt within. Funny, for all the gunfights she had been in since joining Dutch, she still found herself on the border of fear paralysis when staring her past in the face.

"And just what the fuck do you shitty little pigs want?"

She cocked the hammer on each cutlass to try and string this bluff further along, but the two men merely drew on her in return as they continued to step closer and the fierce grins on their faces grew more depraved with the malignant amusement they got from her show of intimidation.

The thinner of the duo gave a long chuckle as the gap between him and his prize closed. "What do you think we want…Rebecca?" Revy stepped back nervously and fired off a few rounds above his shoulder and into the brick wall behind him. In the meantime, Rock had found himself unable to move as the other cop trained his gun on the businessman. He was forced to watch as these men from Revy's past continued to back her into a corner both literally and emotionally.

"God dammit; stop right there!" More shots were fired and each one missed, but none of them had any effect. The detective knew that his prey could not afford to get in trouble for murdering the two of them. However, her shots were certain to draw attention and so he had to wrap this up quickly. With another step, he grasped both of her cutlasses and threw them down onto the ground from her shaking hands, taking the time to lean in and catch the scent of gunpowder, cigarettes, and sweat that lingered in her hair.

Rock's blood was beginning to boil at the sight but he didn't have to wait long before his partner protested that last action rather violently, sending a hard sucker punch into his gut. His joy was short-lived however, when she was backhanded across the face in return while both of the detectives laughed. This wasn't right! He should be doing something about this!

Rock let out a low growl, the likes of which Revy had never heard from him and punched the man holding a gun on him square in the jaw before rounding on the other one with fury in his eyes.

"Just who the hell are you that you think you can go around beating up pedestrians for your own sick pleasure?" Even in Roanapur Rock had come to learn that people didn't often kill or brutalize others "just because".

He grew more infuriated at hearing that same twisted laugh. "Well, I'm the man with the badge and gun, and you're just a dumb little nip."

Rock was so worked up that he ignored Revy's attempts to warn him as he continued to bear down on this cop. "Oh? And that gives you the right to be high and mighty with civilians? What about her?" He pointed a finger in Revy's direction.

"Rock! Turn the fuck around, would ya!"

"You shot at an unarmed innocent little girl just because you fucking felt like it! Tell me how your badge makes that oka—" Before he could continue any further, the cop he had punched returned the favor and sent Rock sailing about three feet across the alley. Revy snarled slightly, but wasn't concerned for his well-being. Hell, she'd dished out worse to him than that.

"Shut the fuck up, you little shit." Rocks attacker barked, before he leaned over to pick up his gun.

The apparent leader of the two returned his attention to Revy and spoke, "Now listen up, you little Chink bitch. We're gonna take a little ride down to the station, and you can either come peacefully or die."

Revy's hands twitched with the desire to crack this man's skull open, but she fought hard to resist after he spoke again.

"Oh, and we'll make it painful for Romeo over here." Rock was just now struggling to peel himself off the pavement, incredulous at this turn of events. He was completely outraged at what the officer just said.

"To the station? For what?"

"Do you wanna get punched again, tough guy? It ain't your business." The short chubby detective glared at him, almost daring him to open his mouth again. He did.

"You can't possibly have any legitimate reason to hold her. The statute of limitations should've run out a long time ago on any crime she's still wanted for in the states."

"Well…actually." The cop leered, attempting to stroke the side of Revy's face and recoiling his hand quickly when she snapped. "As it happens, there's been a string of arsons in the city lately, and look at you, not even five blocks away from the most recent one." He pointed to the sky where the smoke was still billowing.

Revy and Rock both grew confused at that statement, their faces contorted into twin looks of befuddlement.

"Wait, how the fuck could you know it's arson if the fuckin' campire's still blazing?"

"You fucking followed us here!" Rock's jaw dropped and both cops snickered like two delinquent schoolboys.

"Bingo! Now, if you'll excuse us, boy. We have somewhere to be." He tugged on Revy's arm and began pulling her out of the alley with little resistance from her for the moment. Rock struggled to follow behind as the shorter detective continued to brandish a gun at him to ward him off.

"Wait…Revy!"

With a resigned, but somehow confident look mixed with a tinge of fear, Revy turned to fix him with a brief glance and gave him some parting instructions before they turned a corner and he was forced to watch her be shoved into the back of an unmarked vehicle.

"I'll be fine, Rock. Just go call someone."

Rock screamed as the car pulled away and turned around to vent some pent up aggression against the wall. He drew back bloody knuckles but continued to rain a few more punches against the brick and mortar. Call someone? Who the hell was he supposed to call? Dutch didn't have any current ties in New York city that would be of use in this situation, Balalaika had her hands full and would most likely view Revy as expendable in the grand scheme of her war.

Then it struck him; he knew who to call. He didn't know why in the world this would work, but he knew it would.

That's 16. I apologize for the long wait. I really had no intention of taking that long to update. Anyway, please R&R!


	17. An Eye For An Eye

Hey folks! It's been a very long time since I last updated. That said, I won't keep you. I do have just one quick note before you read, however. **This chapter will be non-linear in its story telling. **What's going on in NYC will be the main story line and will be shown alongside the aftermath of the attack on Hotel Moscow in Roanapur, but events in Roanapur that will be shown actually will be taking place several hours after what is going on in New York. Without any further ado, please read, enjoy, and review!

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><p>CH. 17: An Eye for an Eye<p>

"Damn it!" Rock released one final blow of his fist against the brick wall just outside the alley. The image of the unmarked police vehicle rolling away with his companion continued to play over and over in his mind as excruciatingly slow seconds ticked by. "Call someone", that's what she had told him, and in some part of his mind, Rock knew that there was _someone_ that could easily get them out of this mess. But how the hell was he so confident about that? Balalaika sure as hell wasn't going to waltz her falsely credentialed ass into a police station with military great coat draped over her shoulders to save a known criminal who could be tied directly to her real identity.

"Shit!" _Wake the hell up, Rock. _ He continued to work through the storm of worries and thoughts in his mind as he began to search frantically for the nearest payphone. After about a block of aimless walking, he found the familiar glass box he was looking for and quickly ducked inside.

In that moment of jumbled thoughts, frantic worries, and stray curses as he shut himself in the booth and grabbed for the phone; Rock was only dimly aware of the actions of his fingers as they began their dance across the number pad. He wasn't even consciously sure who exactly would be on the receiving end of this phone call—only that he hoped they could help Revy out of this particular situation.

One ring. Nothing.

Two rings and he still stood tapping his foot with his agitated impatience.

It was on the third ring that there was the familiar click of a phone being picked up off the hook, and an equally familiar voice followed.

"Good evening, this is Sister Yolanda of the rip-off church speaking." The kindly old voice met Rock's ears and some of the tension he'd been holding in his shoulders eased just slightly. Yolanda could connect him to Eda, and for some reason there was a nagging feeling in the pit of the businessman's stomach that the younger nun could actually be of help to him. He snapped from his brief stray in thoughts as the mother superior continued speaking.

"If this is a business call, then I'm afraid we are finished for the day and you'll have to call back in the morning."

"No, wait!"

"…Rock?" The old nun sounded genuinely intrigued to be hearing from him at an hour this late in Roanapur. "To what do I owe the pleasure, dear boy?"

"Sister, I apologize if I've disturbed you; I know it's late there. It's just that I've got a bit of a problem and I need to speak to Eda. Is she in?"

There was a brief pause from the other end of the line before the Mother Superior spoke again. "My my, it must be serious if you're having to call in favors from Roanapur." _No shit! Just get to the point, Sister! _Any other time Rock would enjoy engaging the leader of the Rip-Off church in casual conversation, but now was no time for bullshit. Luckily, the kindly old woman seemed to sense his irritation and was quick to give him what he called for.

"I'm intrigued. At any rate, Sister Eda is indeed available. It seems that without Miss Rebecca around, she doesn't feel the need to carouse about town double fisting her whiskey quite so regularly."

Rock assumed that the comment was made for the sole purpose of taking a jab at Eda, and the assumption was proven to be well founded when he heard snarled words from a previously undetected second person on Yolanda's end of the line. After moments of this, he finally found himself speaking to the blond nun.

"Bitch, like your shit don't stink…" Eda mumbled into the phone in a clear attempt to evade Yolanda's sharp hearing. Rock got the distinct impression that the words were directed at the Mother Superior's retreating backside.

"Yo, Rocky boy! How's the big apple?" The blonde boisterously redirected her attention, causing Rock to tense up with anticipation. He then felt his shoulders slump almost as quickly when she continued to speak, dropping her voice into a sultry register that he knew all too well. "You haven't been gone very long. Do you really miss me that much, Rocky? I'm flattered! Two-Hands must not know how to work it in the bedroom, eh?"

At the mention of Revy, the businessman found himself jolted out of the momentary stupor that Eda had caused, and, ignoring his embarrassment at the situation and the blush spread over his cheeks, he snapped sharply.

"Eda! This isn't the time to be bullshitting!"

In the immediate silence that followed, both of them swore to themselves that if a gnat farted in China, they probably would've heard it. For her part, Eda was stunned, but also intensely worried. Rock had always endured her teasing no matter how embarrassing he found it. If he felt the need to snap at her, well, the shit probably broke the fan.

"Fair enough. Wanna tell me what's going on then, Rock?"

"Eda, Revy was taken by a pair of dirty cops." Lagoon's hired white collar didn't waste a beat getting down to business or a breath on any preamble, and Eda was only slightly cognizant of her eyebrows trying to rise into her hairline. It seemed Rock was on a roll today, he'd been surprising her since she took the phone from Yolanda.

She knew enough about Balalaika's operations to know that she preferred to stay under the radar on foreign soil; that knowledge gave her a guess at why the cops weren't dead for their stupidity. Still, she couldn't help the question that escaped her lips.

"Shit...How?" The nun liked to think she had a fairly vivid imagination, but try as she might, she just couldn't imagine Revy going peacefully with the enemy…especially if it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Rock shook his head on his end of the line. He'd wasted enough time already and though he was normally a man of patience, it would do no good to play a game of twenty questions.

"It's not important—I'm sure you can guess for yourself. Anyway, to get to the point, you strike me as someone who's done her fair share of traveling…made a few connections. " If Rock could only see the shark-like grin on her face at that moment. Oh, she had connections all right, and she suspected he knew that better than he let on. The business man from Japan had always been unusually perceptive. That perceptive quality was making it increasingly difficult for the nun to hide herself from him, and as inevitable as the outcome was, for the moment she would enjoy their little game and play her cards as close to the vest as possible.

Rock continued, "You and I both know that, as valuable as Revy's skill is to this trip, Balalaika won't risk herself to intervene. So, what I'm asking is: Do you have any calls you could make?"

"I dunno, Rocky," Eda drawled, "My stock in the big apple isn't exactly blue chip at the moment." Just as she could hear him take a breath to argue, the nun chuckled at him and spoke again, toying with him just slightly, "But, I guess I could do this tiny little favor for you just this once." Her voice was back to that quality it had when she was teasing him and the businessman felt his face go red.

"Eda…this still isn't the time."

"Aw, if you insist, Rocky boy; but remember, you're gonna owe me a favor."

With that, the line went dead and Rock was left standing in the booth with the distinct feeling of having just made a deal with the devil. At any rate, the price was of no consequence as long as they were able to get Revy back to Roanapur with them.

Rock had one more call to make now.

With a more strokes of his fingers, he held the phone up to his ear and waited again. This time, the phone was picked up on the second ring and his boss' deep voice came over the line.

"This is Dutch."

It struck Rock that there was an unusual urgency mingling with the man's usual calm manner of speaking.

"Hey Dutch, its Rock. I—

"Rock? Where the fuck you been?" He was even more surprised at such an outburst. As far as Dutch knew, Rock had been with Revy this whole time. That knowledge would leave him little reason to sound pissed or worried like he did now. Something definitely wasn't right on Dutch's end.

"Dutch, what's—"

"Just get back here as soon as possible. I'll explain when you guys get here."

"But, wait!" The line clicked while Rock was in mid speech, "Revy's in…" He sighed, hanging the phone back on its hook.

"Jail."

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><p>It was the middle of the night in the city of Roanapur. Thailand's little hell hole was, as usual, alive with the hustle and bustle of career criminals and street thugs. To the casual observer it appeared the same as any other night, but the regulars knew better.<p>

The city was preparing for war!

Instead of people talking shop or hustling on street corners, the sewer brats could be found scurrying for shelter before businesses shut their doors to patrons, while those higher up the city food chain spoke in hushed whispers of the rumors floating around. The subtle tension in the atmosphere had only been felt one other time in recent history: When the Romanian twins were let loose and the Visotoniki was tasked with hunting them down. With rumors of the recent slaughter at the Bougainvillea Company, city residents were left to wonder just how much of the city would be standing by morning. Of course, few of them knew that Balalaika herself wasn't actually in Roanapur at the moment.

Boss Chang could be found in the middle of it all. At present, he surveyed the busy sight from the relative safety of the backseat of a black triad Mercedes. He paid his fellow criminals little mind, however, and remained content to sit in silence taking puffs of a cigarette. Chang had his own business to attend to.

After tending to the wounded of Hotel Moscow, it was time to deal with the findings that suggested Italian Mafia involvement. Chang was a shrewd man, and he knew well that the Colombians were not exactly the biggest fans of the arrangement favoring Triad and Russian leadership of the city underworld, but he also knew that Abrego was not a stupid man; if he ever did turn on either of those factions, he would ally himself with someone who would not screw him over in turn. That was how he differed from Boss Antonio. Just like all the other Italians, he had openly mocked Balalaika and Chang on multiple occasions and threatened action against them. Chang hadn't counted on the man to be bold enough to actually follow through…granted he was merely reaping the benefits of the Yakuza's efforts.

Still…

The Mercedes pulled to a stop outside of the Italian Bistro that served as the Italian business front. Several car doors were heard opening and closing as Chang and his posse exited the main vehicle along with Abrego and his immediate subordinates & bodyguards across the street. They all knew the plan.

With a nod to the Colombians, the Triad leader turned on his heel and pushed through the doors of the Bistro. For a moment he was surprised that anyone would actually still be here given the state of things—even despite his intel. The Italians must've been feeling pretty confident in their well-being since they were dealing with the Yakuza. Even under normal circumstances, there were usually only a handful of the higher ups to be found in the place at this time of night. Right now, however, it could only be described as one big Italian shin dig.

'Perfect,' Chang mused to himself, making his way through the drunken masses toward the back of the room. 'All of Papa Guido's boys in one place.' It caught his eye on the way to the back that no less than three of the men were wearing berets…distinctly Russian berets…Berets identical to the ones worn by the Visotoniki. Ah, so either some of the Italian participants in the assault weren't killed by the Yakuza, or they returned to the scene of the crime. Either way, Chang's blood boiled at the disrespect shown to his close ally. He was not a scrupulous man and he still had a score to settle with the Russian bitch, himself, but what courtesies he did possess always seemed to be extended toward Hotel Moscow or the Lagoon Company.

"Hey, Chang! What brings you here?" The call pulled him from his thoughts and he realized he'd reached the back of the room. The Mafia head stood from his seat at the red velvet love seat and extended his hand.

"Antonio! Good to see you." Chang reached to grab his hand, but couldn't help squeezing a little too hard. He noticed that the usually fowl mannered man seemed already to be extra well-mannered tonight. 'He must know he's in deep shit.' Chang thought to himself.

The fake smile on Antonio's face stretched wider as he released Chang's hand from his sweaty grasp. "Now, don't lie. You don't like to see me any more than I like to see you…and it's after midnight."

"That's unusually astute thinking for you. You must be more drunk than you look." Chang chuckled, enjoying the flustered reaction that his comment received.

"Now, now; don't get your underwear in a wad, Antonio. I just came by to ask a couple questions." The Triad boss lowered his sunglasses and grinned a pirate smile that suggested he intended to do a lot more than ask questions. Antonio blanched at the sight; unsure if the subtle expression was actually there or if he'd had just enough alcohol. The thought quickly soured his mood.

"Yeah? Waddaya wanna know, then?"

"Well, I didn't plan to ask this, but I didn't see Donny and Mike on the way back here, they all right?"

"What do you care?" Antonio bristled, backing into the cushions of the loveseat just the tiniest bit.

Chang popped a cigarette in his mouth and flicked his lighter, leaning his forearms onto his knees as the stick of tobacco began to simmer between his teeth.

"Call it a courtesy between business rivals." He explained, taking a short drag. Right about now, Abrego's group should be making their way toward the back.

"They were embezzling from the organization, so I had them killed."

"Interesting…"

Antonio growled, "Stop with the cryptic bullshit, you cocky little bastard!"

Chang was completely unmoved by the outburst and simply offered a brief explanation. "No, no. I think it's interesting that you had them killed when I found them dead inside Hotel Moscow just a few hours ago."

The mafia boss let out an audible gasp as his eyes widened and he retreated further into his seat. The sweat that had been forming on his brow since Chang first made an appearance was prominent now.

Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind them over the din of other raucous voices. It was Abrego.

"You know what else is funny, puto?" Abrego and his subordinates came to stand by Chang's group behind the loveseat where he sat. "You say you had your men killed for embezzlement? You been doing the same for months to all of the other syndicates." He and his men let out laughs at Antonio's expense. By now, Antonio and the few men in the vicinity who were sober enough to notice the impending conflict had their hands near their guns, and Chang's group mirrored them, but Chang wasn't finished talking yet.

"So, we already know you're a filthy guido hypocrite, and no doubt you got involved with the Yakuza because you were a coward trying to get on their good side, but I just have one question left."

There was a sudden explosion of gunfire from the front of the Bistro. Most of the drunken men never knew what hit them, and the rest barely had time to draw a weapon, let alone fire it. In a few short moments, the only people left were the Colombians and the triads against Antonio and the handful of Italians behind him.

"So, about that question:" Chang drew one of his custom pistols, and several more pops were heard as Abrego, Biu, and Gustavo dispatched all of the remaining Italians except for Antonio, leaving him a quivering mess of fear on the loveseat.

"Who are you really more afraid of?"

In his state, the mob boss found himself unable to answer. In fact, he was unable to make any intelligible sound. All he could do was let out nervous cackles as he raised is gun and smiled manically all the while. However, before anyone could pull a trigger, he turned the gun on himself and placed it inside his mouth. A sharp crack was heard a moment later that signaled the end of the Italian era in Roanapur. Chang pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket and wiped the blood spatter from his sunglasses, muttering:

"They always were such a pain in the ass."

He stood from his seat and turned to face his own men while the cartel looked on.

"Alright, listen up! What we did here tonight was just a first step toward taking our city back. From this point on, we will cease all business function and devote all of our man power to patrol and combat in the city. Biu, I want you to place a handful of our best gunmen at Hotel Moscow, as well."

Biu's eyes widened, "But Dai-Lo, that's too risky. Please, have some concern for your safety!"

Chang merely shrugged, flicking the remains of his cigarette onto Antonio's corpse.

"No buts, Biu. Just get it done, will ya." He nodded to Abrego and Gustavo as the triad began to move out.

"It was fun, boys."

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><p>So that's Chapter 17! I really can't remember who became head of the Italian Mafia after the Vampire Twins arc, so the character of Antonio is an OC. Also, I know it's been an incredibly long time since I've updated; to make up for that, I'm going to do a double update. I should have the next chapter out by Tuesday at the latest. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! R&amp;R!<p> 


	18. The Bitch Named Karma

I own nothing at all except for the complete series and Roberta's Blood Trail on Blu-Ray! Enjoy!

Ch. 18:The Bitch Named Karma

CRACK!

The sound of the thinner detective's gun smashing against the brunette gunslinger's face filled the room.

Revy, who sat handcuffed to a chair, gave little reaction aside from glaring hatefully at the two men and turning her head to spit out the blood.

"Well, look who went and got tough!" The chubby one of the two men stated, "Last time we all hung out like this we could hardly shut you the hell up. Isn't that right Jeff?"

Jeff twirled his gun once and let out a snort, "That's right, Charlie." He then turned his unsettling gaze back to Revy, "What happened? Hmm?"

At this, Two Hands openly laughed a mocking, barking laugh, leaving the two men frustrated and confused. She had been completely unresponsive thus far to all the methods they had tortured her with in the past. Either she truly was unfazed, or she had developed a damn good poker face. One thing was certain: she had definitely developed a woman's body, and both men eyed it with lecherous intent.

"What happened? I wised up and realized that insignificant little shit stains like you with something to prove are just the tip of the fuckin' iceberg when it comes to all the bad shit in this world."

Yes, her words were anything but empty, and she had come a long way from the frightened little gutter rat that she once was. However, there was still a part of her that couldn't deny that she did fear these men even if that fear no longer pervaded her being and controlled her. She knew that she absolutely would not let them have their way without a fight this time if it came to it.

Charlie sneered at her with a twisted smile, "Hmm. Well, I guess we'll just have to pummel you until it sinks in that you're the only 'shit stain' here!" He cracked his knuckles and Revy let out a growl before Jeff struck her across the face.

"Bring it, ya dumb fucks!"

The question on Revy's mind was: How would she fight back? The handcuffs had already proven too tight to squeeze her wrists out of. They were so tight, in fact, that she felt the warmth of blood seeping down the backs of her hands. At one point in this round of beatings, Charlie tried to grab her chin to force her gaze to his. She took the opportunity to tear into his hand with her teeth. When the other detective tried to pistol whip her in retaliation, she leaned away so forcefully that the chair she was cuffed to fell over with a loud clanging sound.

"Back the fuck off!" she barked, kicking her booted feet at the men to stave off their advance. Revy felt her pulse quicken at the sight of Charlie unbuckling his belt just before Jeff flipped her chair over to get the cuffs around her bleeding wrists. What was this guy doing? Could he really be so fucking careless?

Lagoon's deadeye didn't have to wait long for the answer. Though the man uncuffed her, he was very careful to keep her pinned as he lifted her and shuffled her back towards the rear wall of the interrogation room. Revy continued to struggle against his iron grip on her as he lifted her arms up towards a metal pipe. She found an opening as he was struggling to get her hands over the pipe when he made the mistake of getting his sneering face to close.

Blood gushed from the man's nose in a furious spray after her head whipped sharply and caught him. He staggered back for just a split second, but refused to allow Revy to get free. She felt the burning pain of the handcuffs clicking tightly into place around her wounded wrists and spit in Jeff's face just for good measure. He brought his hand up to his bleeding face and crudely wiped the blood and the spit off before shooting her a menacing glare that went straight through her core.

"Come on, you little bitch! That was just uncalled for. Now…" He gestured towards his partner, who by this point had his pants and underwear down and was quite shamelessly stroking himself as he let his leering eyes roam over her. "You can either cooperate, or this is gonna get even more unpleasant for you."

Revy scoffed, continuing to put on her fearless front while also trying not to gag at the other man's display. There was no way in hell she was gonna placidly let them have their way with her. Jeff advanced on her and reached out to caress her face and she played along for a moment before kicking him swiftly in the balls. She laughed as she watched him writhe in agony on the floor; she was laughing so hysterically that she didn't even hear the curses thrown at her from the other man. Revy only stopped when Charlie landed a punch to her ribs and all the air rushed from her lungs. She paid no attention to him, though. Instead, she continued to look at Jeff, glaring up at her from the floor, and answered his earlier remark.

"Just what the fuck are you gonna do if I don't cooperate?"

Jeff and Charlie both chuckled as Jeff lifted himself from the floor, this time keeping his distance as he relished Revy's well-toned figure.

"You and that little nip boy looked pretty close. I bet it be terrible for you if something were to happen to him." Revy's eyes widened at the detective's thinly veiled threat and she knew he had likely seen the chink in her composure, but she decided to keep playing tough.

"Really? Well, joke's on you, asshole. Come tomorrow, he won't even be in this city anymore."

Jeff chuckled, ready to call the brunette gunslinger's bluff. He was interrupted before he could retaliate, though, by the sound of the door opening followed by a _very_ unhappy shout.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

All three occupants of the room craned their necks toward the door to see three men in neatly pressed black suits. Revy recognized the one black man among them as the CIA agent she'd handed off Changs documents to on Basilan Island. The second one was a fairly tall man with a muscular build and blond hair with brown eyes. The third one, the one who had apparently asked the question, was a short-statured man with dark crew cut hair and green eyes that were flashing with fury. He was also a man of impatience, apparently.

"Well? Do either of you two gentlemen care to tell us what's going on?"

Unfortunately, it was Charlie who recovered his voice first. Revy knew that he was easily the less tactful and more dimwitted of the pair. Also, he wasn't wearing pants.

Oh, this was gonna be good!

"I think you made a wrong turn somewhere, friend." He sneered, causing the dark haired agent to glare even more fiercely. "This is an interrogation room, and we're busy!"

This caused the rest of the agents to glare at the two men and the lead agent let out a low snarl before beginning his next sentence with a contrasting calmness.

"Let's get something straight, _'friend'_. I don't give a shit if this room is a god damn broom closet; that woman—" He pointed to Revy, "…Is an asset to the United States government. Now, let that sink in to your tiny little brain." The man took a moment to scrutinize Charlie a bit before speaking again. "Also, I'm sure I speak for _your superiors_ when I say, I'd like to know what kind of interrogation involves being naked from the waist down."

Charlie and Jeff just stared at each other for a few beats as if deciding what to do. After a few moments, Jeff finally relented as Charlie pulled his pants up. "Let her down…" He sighed.

"But…"

"Just do it!"

It couldn't be more obvious that both men were sour at the loss of their play thing. As she was released from the cuffs, Revy mused that she wouldn't be surprised to run into them again on this trip. If that happened, then so be it. She would kill them; just like she should have earlier.

Several minutes later, Revy was burning rubber through a quieter neighborhood of Manhattan on a nice little black Ducati courtesy of Uncle Sam. She would have to rush back to Brighton Beach if she wanted to make sure any more trouble was avoided. Luckily, she still knew the area well enough to know where she could avoid traffic or cut through side alleys.

Revy pondered over recent events as she sped away from Chinatown. No matter how much distance she put between herself and that hell hole of a police station, it baffled her that Langley came to her rescue. Sure, Lagoon crew could at times be considered an "asset" to the good ol' red, white, and blue, but they could just as often be considered a threat. She had to wonder how they knew to be there and why they bothered to intervene. It was probably a waste of effort to dwell on it, she thought to herself with a shake of her head.

Revy continued to ride the throttle for a couple more minutes with her eyes locked on the road in front of her. Unnoticed to her rear was an unmarked gray sedan that had been tailing her since shortly after her swift departure from the 27th Precinct. The sedan was slowly creeping closer toward the motorcycle as the driver waited patiently for the right moment. Then, shortly before Revy could leave the sleepy little neighborhood for a busier avenue, he performed a well-timed PIT maneuver. The front fender of the car bashed against the motorcycle's rear tire. The impact sent the Ducati into a violent spinning swerve and caused the gunslinger to fly off in the opposite direction.

_Everything went dark for a brief moment as she came to land in an alley several yards from where the_ motorcycle came to rest. Revy's head swam as she cracked her eyes open; she could feel herself being dragged further into the alley.

"Huh…?" She moaned in a groggy haze, tilting her head up in an attempt to see who was dragging her.

Revy realized as her head began to clear, that, to her surprise, she was being dragged away by a little boy who couldn't have been much older than about eight.

"He-Hey! Lemme go!" She complained, although she made no move to get away from the boy's grip and her still dazed voice lacked any seriousness. It struck her as she continued to look at him that the boy looked strangely familiar…_and _he was wearing her guns in two makeshift holsters on his chest. She forgot she had lost those when those bastards took her away.

Speaking of… "They're coming." The boy stated in response to her protest. Bringing a finger up to his lips as he drug her into a darkened part of the alley way. Moments later, they heard footsteps drawing closer.

"Rebecca…" Charlie drawled out in an ominous tone and Jeff finished the call in an equally chilling voice. "Come out come out, wherever you are."

The steps continued closer and Revy noticed that the boy had started to shake with terror. She had done the same thing courtesy of the two men often enough in her youth to know that this boy in front of her was a favorite victim of theirs as well. For reasons she could not understand, that knowledge enraged her all the more.

This stops here!

With a wild look in her eye, she pulled both of her guns from the boy's holster made of crudely wrapped sweater sleeves and jumped out of her hiding place with the guns pointed straight at the two men.

Predictably, both men responded with over confident laughter.

"Oh, come on, Rebecca. You're gonna have to do better than that." Jeff snickered stupidly, not noticing the killer gleam in her eyes that always preceded someone taking a bullet between the eyes courtesy of her cutlass.

"Yeah!" Charlie piped up "We know you won't risk the job you came here for just to kill a cop."

Revy laughed darkly, "Really? Who's to say ol' Langley won't swoop in again and save my ass if I do?" She was bluffing, but it was a convincing bluff given what happened in the police station.

The pair's first reaction was to look at her with widened eyes, but then they regained composure and fixed her with defiant stares. They were just daring her to shoot. She wasn't ready to kill just yet, though. She would fuck with them just a bit first.

"Oh, and would ya at that." Revy smirked, noticing one very important detail, "You two dipshits didn't even bother to bring your guns with ya."

"You bitch." Jeff spat out hatefully

She chuckled, "What's the fuckin' problem, shit stain? This not part o' your plan?" She looked from Jeff over to the more cowardly detective who seemed to have realized much sooner than his thinner partner that they were both about to die. He was rooted to the spot where he stood and there was a noticeable wet spot down the front of his slacks. Revy's murderous eyes bore directly into him as she spoke again.

"Well, guess what, assholes—I am not Rebecca, I am Revy, and I'm your worst fucking nightmare. I'm not afraid of you because you made me, and I'm bigger and badder than all the sad little street brats you rape and beat could make you two motherfuckers.

Just then, a click-clack noise began to build up from above and behind her, and Revy quickly glanced up noticing for the first time that they were almost right below a segment of el train tracks. The train itself was still a decent distance away.

'Perfect timing.' She thought as a shark-like smile spread over her face. She intended to kill them regardless, but the train would at least partially mask the noise and maybe buy her more time before anyone started to pry.

"You guys shoulda never come back for me. I always swore I would kill you if I ever saw you again." The train drew nearer as Revy continued to speak.

"Enjoy these last few seconds and know that you rotten sons o' bitches are gonna die at the hands of the monster you helped to make."

A short few seconds later, the train began its pass over their heads and Revy cocked both guns.

"Bye, fuckers."

Two shots rang out in the alley as blood, bone, and gray matter splattered onto the brick walls and pavement. Revy let out a relieved sigh, realizing that her childhood tormentors were finally dead. She turned to find that the boy was staring at her with awe, as if she had just run a mile while tugging a semi-truck. It was then that she noticed more about this little nook of the alley. In it, there was a small mattress that was covered in various stains. There was a trashcan which Revy assumed was used for warmth, and a couple of pictures of people unfamiliar to the gunwoman, but likely extremely important to the boy (and likely dead). It was a living situation all too familiar to Revy and she was surprised to find that the sight pulled at the heartstrings she had thought long ago severed.

The last thing to catch her eye was a plush bear that was nearly as tall as the boy. The bear was quite a bit less dirty and ragged than all of the other items. In fact, the bear looked just like the one she had tossed away at Coney Island just yesterday. That's when it clicked. She had briefly seen the boy yesterday before she got rid of the bear. He must've assumed that she had done so out of kindness. She remembered what it was like to be around his age and on the street; nothing she had would've been too much to give just to have someone show her the kindness that she desperately searched for.

Those memories compelled her to do for the boy what she wished someone would've done. No one was around to see this anyway so it wasn't as if her reputation would suffer.

Revy knelt in front of the kid, with a watery sheet of unshed tears just barely visible in her eyes and spoke. "Listen, kid: Don't grow up to be a killer. You do whatever you have to do to make it off the fuckin' streets, but don't use a gun if you don't have to. You got that?"

The boy hung onto her every word, nodding at her when she finished. "Good." Revy stood to leave and turned on her heel, adding a cryptic afterthought before walking away. "Oh, and remember, Coney Island is the best place in the city."

* * *

><p>A while after the ordeal in the Alley, Revy finally pulled up to the hotel in Brighton Beach on the banged up crotch rocket. She wasted no time in parking the bike and heading to the lobby. After the kind of day she'd had, she really needed some quality time at the bar.<p>

The hotel lobby itself looked like it hadn't been updated since some time in the 60's. The carpet was faded burgundy and gold and the walls were polished oak with the occasional scuff marks and ornately patterned wood carvings. Revy didn't give a shit about any of that, though. Her only interest was the bar, and it didn't take her long to sniff out the alcohol.

When she reached the bar, she found Dutch, Benny, and Rock all together in their customary seats. Rock was the first to spot her as she made her way to the empty seat at his side, although Dutch was the first to acknowledge her.

"You look like shit, Two-Hands." He took a sip of the whiskey in his glass, "Where have you been, anyway." Dutch already knew, courtesy of Rock, still he couldn't help but prod at his longest running employee.

"It's not important." Revy shrugged, giving Rock a subtle glance that told him quite a bit had transpired since they parted before she flagged down the bar tender and ordered her drink.

"So, what'd I miss?" Revy asked, taking a long swig of her usual 151.

Benny answered, "Not much really; just the beginning of WWIII."

"Are you fucking serious?" Revy turned to give her full attention to Dutch and Benny, "Looks like that Shinji guy has a few more screws loose than we thought. What the hell did he do?"

"Chang called about an hour ago," Dutch replied, taking another pull of his drink. "The Yakuza launched a surprise attack on Hotel Moscow…apparently with some help from the Italians."

Revy let out a long laugh, "Man this shit just keeps getting better! Fry-face'll probably torch half the fucking city by herself when she gets back to Roanapur."

"Yeah, especially considering some of her closest comrades were killed in the attack, and Boris is barely alive." Benny added, "Between Hotel Moscow, the Triads, the Albanians, and the Yakuza it'll be a miracle if there's anything left of the city once the fighting's over."

Revy nodded in agreement and then looked around as if realizing something, "Hey, where is Balalaika, anyway? I didn't see the limo outside when I came in."

"After the call came in, she went straight to the Russian embassy to try to make travel arrangements to get us out of the city faster. The Albanians are sticking to their original travel plan; they should be in Roanapur in about two days."

It went like this for several more minutes.

The four members of the Lagoon Company sat at the bar draining their liquor and discussing the clusterfuck that waited for them back home. Rock wondered exactly what had happened to Revy once she was left with those two detectives; he had to assume that she had taken some kind of a beating from the bruises and cuts on her face. Not to mention the torn leather of her jacket and the exaggerated tears of her previously frayed jeans. There was also the matter of how she got away from them. What strings did Eda pull exactly? He would have to ask Revy about it later when they were alone. The look she'd given him earlier told him she intended to tell him anyway.

Eventually, the sound of high heels clicking on the hard floor was heard near the entrance to the all but empty bar and the four occupants turned to find Balalaika standing before them. She was as composed as ever, but her eyes betrayed the rage that they all knew she would be feeling. Her eyes promised pain and suffering for every last member of the Yakuza invaders.

"Lagoon Company; it's time. There is a private jet waiting at JFK." She spoke to them as if they were soldiers under her command in a tone that left no room for comment and swiftly turned on her heel leaving them to follow as Dutch threw a wad of cash at the bar tender.

* * *

><p>Later, once the private jet had been wheels up for a bit, Balalaika sat back in her well cushioned seat. She brooded over the predicament with the Matsuzaki character. There seemed to be no real pattern to his strategy; that made him an even more formidable foe. However, even the biggest opponents still had their shortcomings. If she and Chang had any hope of winning, they would have to expose some sort of weakness. He had clearly found one of hers. She and her men were so accustomed to the pragmatic thinking of a soldier that they easily overlooked a more out of the box means of attack. That, and her soldiers were readily willing to die for her causes, which amounted to slaughter in the face of such a practiced tactician.<p>

Shinji had a brother that he seemed to care for enough for revenge, but Balalaika sensed that wasn't his motivation. Perhaps Hotel Moscow only appeared to be his primary objective. If that assumption held, then maybe his own pride and determination to kill the pair from Lagoon Company could prove to be his downfall.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by the shrill ring of her cell phone, which she was quick to answer.

"Speak." Balalaika barked into the receiver impatiently.

"Hello…Sofiya." Her eyes widened in shock at the name…her real name. Shinji was good; very good. No one except what family she had left in Russia knew that name as she'd used her ties with the Russian mob to have a chunk of her personal information redacted years ago. In spite of this knowledge and the fact that the man on the other line was responsible for the deaths of a large number of her comrades, she smirked.

"Ah, Mr. Matsuzaki. This is a surprise."

A sinister smirk spread across Shinji's face, "An unpleasant one, I hope."

Balalaika glared even though he could not see, "I assume you're calling to gloat about butchering my soldiers."

Shinji chuckled, "Actually, I'm calling in the hope that I might convince you to surrender. You should know that the Matsuzaki Yakuza, while it is enough to crush you, is not alone in this fight."

"And you should know better, Mr. Matsuzaki. I'm a well-connected woman. Even across the ocean I know about your involvement with the Italians." Balalaika clipped a cigar and lit it, taking a hefty puff as she continued to speak.

"You should also know that I have acquired some new allies as well. Apparently, there were a lot of criminal organizations left out to dry when you began to seize your power."

Shinji sighed, he knew that this would've come up sooner or later. He was well aware that his methods were very unpopular with quite a few other factions. Case in point: Hotel Moscow.

"Ah, well, be that as it may, I do have one other argument. You see," He said, pointing a gun at an unkown Russian's head from his end of the line, "You're not the only one who's done a bit of travelling." The line went silent for a moment before Balalaika heard the muffled groans of a man in the background.

"Can you guess where I am, Sofiya? I'll give you a hint: You're dear grandfather has been quite the chatty little man."

Balalaika's mouth fell open in shock and her eyes filled with rage as her quivering hand struggled to grip the phone properly. "No…" Came the whisper from under her breath. He remained one of the few people from her old life that she still could say she cared about even though she could no longer bring herself to speak to him.

"Now, it's your choice." Shinji spoke with a sly grin as he cocked the gun in his hand, "You can surrender to me and leave the city, or you can let him die."

She sat frozen in her seat. Neither option was acceptable in her mind. To refuse this offer would be to have her grandfather's blood on her hands as well as all of the soldiers that she had left and all of the soldiers who would die upon her return. To accept would be to lose everything that she had worked for in Roanapur and subject herself and her soldiers to the same shame that they endured after the Soviet-Afghan war. In addition, all of the blood shed to secure her position in Thailand's underground would mean nothing. In the end, however, she found herself unable to back down from Shinji's challenge, no matter how badly she might regret the choice later.

Her next words were spiteful and full of malice towards the man on the other end, "I will not back down to the likes of you for any price."

"Very well then."

The last thing that Balalaika heard before the line went dead was a gunshot.

* * *

><p>As promised, here's chapter 18! I hope you enjoyed it! R&amp;R!<p> 


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